


Hopeless

by Sh33tMeDead336



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: 1920, Abuse, Detective, F/M, Fate, Happy Ending, Just Roll With It, Merry Christmas Everyone!, Police, Romance, Secret Santa, Slow Burn, Stakeout, criminals, dark themes, finding hope among hopelessness, for the awesome damn_son, i love Weston's nephews, it's hinted but never stated, kind of?, mafia, medium-burn really, mob, organised crime, probably really inaccurate behaviours for 1920, short chapters sorry, soulmates but not really, they never figure it out either lol, they're cinnamon rolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sh33tMeDead336/pseuds/Sh33tMeDead336
Summary: Delilah Clementine or Delilah De Luca, if you were to refer to her by her married name. She was a charming woman with a charming face, a woman that could make any man swoon. However beauty proves to be a double edged sword, as it was this very same attribute that sent her life spiraling downwards into anguish and despair. She'd become the wife of a criminal, a murderer, a mobster. Marvin De Luca, a mob boss that ran rampant around the city. He'd set his greedy eyes on her and she was hopeless but to give into him.Weston Greyson, one of the cities most distinguished investigators. He'd made a name for himself over the years, but the game he played was a dangerous one.He played the role of a hero, but the justice he strove for was riddled with corruption and greed, all of which he was hopeless but to go along with.These two people, living two very different lives, seemingly unconnected by all except the haunting similarity of their eyes. Dark and brooding and swirling with both mystery and the embers of fire. They are two people, hopeless against the situations they had found themselves thrown into, maybe together they can break the cycle?After all, there's no such thing as coincidence.
Relationships: Delilah/marvin (ex), Weston/delilah
Comments: 17
Kudos: 4
Collections: Let's Create Secret Santa 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Damn_Son](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damn_Son/gifts).



Her hips swayed, shoulders rolled, and toes curled. Smoothly she placed one foot in front of the other, strutting up the stage with her chin held high in the air. Onlookers held their breaths, as the woman who they all knew held true to that fierce glint in her chocolate eyes and the danger pulling at the smirk across her painted lips ran her lidded eyes over the crowd.

Delilah Clementine, the most stunning woman this side of the city. Red silk hugged her curves and hung neatly at her mid-thighs. A truly awe-inspiring woman was she, as her red lips brushed the microphone her decorated nails curled around. Many women envied Miss Clementine, jealousy jabbing in their chests at her silky voice and witty words made their husbands swoon.

Unfazed by the mixture of lustful and resentful stares she stepped back on her glittery heels, signalling the sharply dressed clad of men sporting expensive looking instruments to tap their heels against the wooden stage as they strummed and blew their musical pieces.

She was in her element, the first warm hum rolling off her tongue and bouncing around the room. The mummers of the crowd had long since fell silent, even the waiters stilled in their spots to glance up at the woman on stage. Miss Clementine was a regular at the bar, though it seemed no one could ever truly get used to the hypnotising rumble of her voice.

However, there was one man, immune to Delilah’s charm. A trained expert in resisting such petty infatuations, designed to handle the most strenuous of events on the psyche. Weston Greyson, a renowned detective, believed to have never left even a single case unsolved.

Stiffly he stood by the door of the bar with his burly arms crossed over his chest. He ran his calculative gaze over the crowd, searching for anyone that may be trouble or worth looking into. Other than the particularly shady bar-owner and the woman he was here to interrogate, there wasn’t anyone worth great interest.

He stayed alert the entire performance, letting his eyes wander over to the pretty lady on stage, merely to watch with little to mild interest.

He could see why Miss Clementine was so popular, she was as charming and lovely as her reputation claimed her to be. Usually Weston wouldn’t be interested in some pretty singer’s affairs, except currently she was his strongest lead in his investigation into Marvin De Luca, the alleged don of a mob family running rampant around the city.

He wasn’t running on very much information, but there was already little known on the man himself except for rumours- all of which he couldn’t risk not looking into. This was yet another one of his likely fruitless investigations into yet another whisper of the man himself that had travelled through the streets of the city. Nonetheless, he was here for a reason, and moved with purpose. 

Hooking a finger at his collar he tugged his tie looser, adjusting the sleeves of his white button-up that sat snugly rolled up his arms before smoothly approaching the dark eyed beauty exiting the stage and escaping backstage.

“Miss Clementine!” He called before she could slip through the changing room’s door, causing her to pause and turn on her heel to face the approaching detective. 

Miss Clementine brushed some of the caramel waves framing her face off her shoulder and curled it around her ear, “Ah, hello sir,” a pearly smile stretched across her lips, “Can I assist you somehow?”

Weston pulled out his badge, holding it out on display, “Why yes, Miss Clementine. I’m Weston Greyson, one of the lead investigators down at the station, I’ve come here to ask you a few questions.”

Miss Clementine appeared surprised, an appropriate reaction in Weston’s own opinion. Allowing her a few seconds to register the situation, Miss Clementine nodded, eyeing the taller male in her presence.

“Of course, Mr Greyson, I’ve got nothing to hide,” she smiled, turning around to twist the golden handle of the changing room and inviting him inside, “Right this way.”

Weston stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him and running his eyes across the room. Unlike the other changing rooms for some of the other performers, this one was purely dedicated to Miss Clementine, a giveaway that she commonly pulled in an audience just like today.

Her change room wasn’t quite as neat as he would have expected it to be but considering the stress and little time that came along with those working in the entertainment business, perhaps it was understandable. Fine dresses of sequins and silk were draped over the back of a wooden chair and hung on the armrest of the crème chaise lounge tucked away in the back corner of the room. The room was decorated in feathers and frills and velvet, crystal beads hanging from the curtains and glinting under the light illuminating the room.

Miss clementine waltzed across the room to politely take a seat at the chair by the Vanity table, hooking a leg over the other and resting her hands in her lap. “Now, if you hadn’t noticed Mr Greyson, but I am a particularly busy lady, so I’d prefer if we could do this in a timely manner.”

Weston halted his inspection and nodded stiffly before moving to approach her himself, pulling out a small leather journal and pencil from his pocket. “Well then, I will not waste your time.” Folding the journal in his hands and opening it to a blank page made of coarse white material, he readied his pencil in the other hand. Clearing his throat, he begun, “Where were you on the 17th of April at approximately 7 o’clock that night?”

Miss Clementine quirked an eyebrow, before humming to herself, “Oh dear, that was quite a while ago. Surely you do not expect me to remember what I was doing all that time ago?”

“It was about a month ago, the night of the Jazz performance by Duke Ellington at the Harrington estate.”

“Oh I see, yes I remember that night,” she grinned, “A wonderful performance, truly.” She paused, realising she was getting distracted, “But I suppose a review of the event Is not what you came here for. Yes, I was there that night, why do you ask?”

Weston glanced up at her from the notes he was scribbling down in his journal, “Did you happen to attend with anyone else? Did somebody come to pick you up?”

Miss Clementine gave Weston a curious look, “I attended with some friends, but had my chauffeur come to pick me up.”

“Just your chauffeur? Nobody else was in the vehicle?”

“No, it was just me.”

Weston hummed, continuing to scrawl across the page. “That’s interesting, we have witnesses claiming they saw you get in the car with another man.”

Miss Clementine paused as Weston watched her through narrowed eyes.

“Say, Miss Clementine,” Weston’s eyes flickered down to the pretty diamond sitting boldly on her finger, “I’ve noticed you wear a wedding ring, yet you don’t use your husband’s name?”

Miss Clementine shifted in her seat, “I prefer to use my maiden name on stage, it attracts a bigger audience, more men hoping to get lucky- you understand?” She answered calmly.

Weston paused, before nodding. It did make sense, a dirty but smart move on her own part. “I see, though that doesn’t explain who you got in the vehicle with.”

She tensed, uncomfortably diverting her eyes from his own. It was at this moment Weston knew she had something to hide. Weston had reason to believe that the man Miss Clementine got into the car with was Marvin De Luca. The detective squinted his eyes at her, dropping his arms to cross them over his chest.

Perhaps Miss Clementine was a mistress of some sort, Weston assumed.

“I, if I tell you, you must swear not to tell anyone else Mr. Greyson.”

“I can’t ensure that,” he answered firmly.

Miss Clementine searched his eyes before a quiet sigh slipped past her lips. Closing her eyes, as if recalling a moment, she didn’t wish to remember, she grasped the material of her dress in her lap. “That was an old friend of mine. He offered me a ride home, however, he… tried to _come on_ to me.” Weston paused, eyes widening slightly.

“I, I got away, thankfully,” she breathed, before a single hand slowly crept away from her lap and slid up her torso, gently tugging down the frilly sleeve of her dress, revealing tender skin kissed with hues of faint blues and purples. “It is not… something that I wish to discuss,” her eyes searched the floor, as if afraid to glance up, her chocolate brown iris’s stinging with tears.

Weston sucked in a breath, the arms sitting at his chest relaxing, “You can report the incident down at the station, if you would like?”

Miss Clementine shook her head, her eyes rising from the ground to look up at Weston softly. “No… it’s alright now, it has been dealt with.”

Weston was curious as to what she was implying by that but decided not to pry. It was obvious from Miss Clementine’s raw and honest confession that this was another dead lead. The car incident was all he had on her, and with that now explained, he’d have to go looking elsewhere.

Looking down at the soft faced little lady before him, Weston felt a sting of sympathy shoot through him. “If you insist Miss Clementine, you be sure to return home safely to your husband.”

She bobbed her head in confirmation, before reaching over for a handkerchief to dab at her eyes before it could taint her makeup. “Of course, thank you for understanding, Mr Greyson.”

Weston nodded. “I should be heading off now, you have yourself a goodnight maim,” he spoke gently, thinking back at the swirls of unnatural colour crawling up her arm and staining her shoulder. Turning around he made sure to slip out the dressing room quietly and shut the door behind him after informing her to make sure she locked the door afterwards. Standing out front until he heard the familiar click of a lock, he tucked away his pencil and journal in the pocket of his suit pants.

With a tight jaw Weston made a swift exit out of the bar, frustration building in his chest. Exactly what kind of man took it upon himself to hurt a woman? A shameless, boyish one at that. One deserving of no respect. No man should lay a finger upon a woman and strike fear into her heart- it was utterly disgraceful.

With disgust sitting bitterly on his tongue and curled across his lips he escaped into the cool air of the night, with the lovely lady that was Miss Clementine on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! Merry Christmas everyone!
> 
> Also, apologises to Damn_son for not having this completed on time. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas anyway!


	2. Chapter 2

The station was busy, with detectives and officers rushing around with paperwork tucked under their arms and haste in their step. Weston stood to the side, right by the doorway of his own private office, eyeing the room with bag’s threatening to hang below his eyes. 

Sipping on his coffee, he allowed the current state of chaos the station was in to wake up his tired mind. Miss Clementine was his last and only lead, and it had just run dry. After going into talk with her last night and returned to the station fruitless, he’d begun to run out of options. Of course, he always had a few... last minute resources, but they were for emergencies only. 

Smoothing down his white button up that had since gone wrinkled from his night long of going through files and connecting and relooking over evidence. 

Throwing back the rest of his coffee, he lazily tossed the paper cup over into the bin by the door, before turning around and slipping back into his dull office and swinging the door shut behind him.  
Pulling on the cord hanging from the roof, light flickered to life throughout the room. Dust was left unsettled from all the rearranging of items during the night, that left the room looking a warzone. Files littered both Weston’s desk and floor and clung to the very edges of draws simply waiting to slip to the floor from where they’d been hurriedly thrown. 

Slinking over to his desk, he slinked in his chair. Lazily, his eyes ran across the room. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

No matter how many hours Weston slaved away, bot behind his desk and on the street, all trace of Marvin De Luca had seemingly vanished, and the only thing he left behind was the trail of corruption in his wake. 

The corruption in this city had been festering for far too long now. Weston had seen good, kind men who lived by integrity succumb to it. The greed in a man’s heart was far too great to be able to resist the temptation of riches it seemed. A truly disappointing, pitiful truth of this world.  
Sometimes Weston feared that he too would one day become that very thing he swore to rid this city of. So many had been in his very same position and lost themselves to it as well, who was to say he was different? He supposed it was that very fear of losing himself that proved to be his failsafe. 

It was why he hated using the unsanitary methods of hunting criminals through using other criminal’s intel. Weston eyes the telephone resting at the corner of his desk, somewhat wearily. He’d had to use his ‘resources’ only a few times in the past, because as much as he was disappointed in himself for it, sometimes in order to achieve the greater good you had to stoop to your opposers level. Not only that, but the people he had contact with were already in bed with the police, they’d infiltrated a place that once stood for justice and the protection of the people and tarnished it with their greed and cruelty. 

It felt hopeless. Weston was just one man, a man who’d surely lose his life if he dared opposing the system, even uttered a word about trying to root out the dirt within the justice system. So for now he had to ignore the certain sources he was forced to work beside, and take down every other source of injustice in this city until something else could be done about it.

Rubbing at his temples, he tentatively reached out for the phone, bringing it up close and holding it to his ear. Using the other hand, he spun around the dial to the correct numbers that he’d since learnt by heart.

The phone rang for a few seconds, and at the fifth chime, someone finally picked up. 

“Who’s this?”

Weston held the phone to his ear for a few seconds, chewing at the side of his cheek, before a sigh slipped past his lips. 

“It’s Weston Greyson. I need your help again.”

There was a murmur in the background of the phone call, then something like deep chuckling from a few men just barely heard in the background. Bobby, the man who always answered the phone, brought the phone back up to his face as the volume of his voice went back to normal.

“That so? What’d ya need this time? A name? An address?”

Weston picked up his pencil, tapping idly against the notebook that sat in front of him, his eyes running over the points of information he’d recorded from his interrogation with Miss Clementine the night before. He paused, eyeing the sentence at the very top, with a certain name circled in bold. 

‘Witness reports seeing woman known as Miss Clementine enter a vehicle with a man that matched the description of Marvin De Luca.’ 

After a few moments, to the point where Bobby was calling out ‘hello? You still there?’ into the phone, Weston let the words slip from his mouth.

“Marvin De Luca,” he said simply.

The line went silent. This time when Bobby pulled the phone away from his ear to consult with whoever was in the room, nobody laughed. Weston sat anxiously at his desk in anticipation of Bobby’s reply.

This was his last resort- his final choice. After this, there was nowhere else to look. That would be it. He’d have to drop the case, just like so many others, once again having been evaded by the infamous mob boss known as Mr. De Luca. 

Weston knew he was asking no small favour, Marvin De Luca was no ordinary criminal, he was a man feared both by the hard working public and by those who lived by the streets. Helping him with this could mean serious consequences for them if the man himself ever found out. I’d be the end of either their career, or the end of them. 

So Weston sat in his chair as the minutes stretched on, continuing to go over the lines that circled Marvin De Luca’s name as his hardened gaze never straying from the paper. He needed to find this man. 

So many had this criminal both killed and maimed, so many he’d left in ruins. He’d bankrupted business run by good, honest people and done wrong by so many. Weston couldn’t help the anger that bubbled in his chest at the thought.  
He’d grown up so faithful, so utterly hopeful for this world, only for everything he knew to come crashing around him. He knew it was unrealistic to ever expect there to be a time or place where there is no crime, no suffering and misdoings, but despite he’d strive to do his best to make everybody’s lives just that little bit safer and happier. 

Because at the end of the day, it was those large uncontainable grins that spread across old folks and little tikes’ lips that made it all worth doing. Knowing that a woman could walk the streets home safely, unfearfully, that people wouldn’t have to hold their wallets and purses close in fear of being robbed, it was what drove him.  
It all seemed so unachievable at times, and it probably was, in his own lifetime anyway. But he’d keep working away at it to help out the best he could for the long run. 

A moment later Bobby came back to the phone, and grunted. “Yeah a’right. What do you need?”


	3. Chapter 3

The quaint little cafe wasn’t nearly as busy as it usually was. Though it was a Thursday afternoon, one of the restaurants less busy days. Hence why Delilah had determined it would be on this particular day that her and the hazel eyed lady sitting across from here would meet here.

Adorned in a pretty blue gown and a matching cloche resting upon her head was a baby faced relative of Delilah’s, a mischievous sixteen-year-old in bright red lipstick; Delilah’s baby sister. 

Politely, Delilah rose the delicate pottery in her hand up to her lips, thoughtfully sipping her tea as she stared at Anna in mild amusement from over the rim of the white porcelain. 

“He’s so frustrating!” Anna sighed, settling her own cup of tea back onto the table. “Men are so confusing. One minute he’s sending me love letters in the mail, and then the next thing you know he’s ignoring me!”

Delilah took another tender sip of tea, the warm liquid rolling over her tongue and leaving behind a hint of blackberries as she swallowed. Humming, she gently settled her own cup back down before dropping her hands to politely rest in her lap. “Well, I must agree with you, men certainly are an odd bunch aren’t they?” She chuckled to herself as the young lady across from her huffed in agreement. “This Charles boy sounds alright, though I’ll have to meet him for myself. As for your current situation, well, you know how males are- hopeless.”

Anna giggled, bobbing her head in reply. “Sometimes I wonder if they even have anything up there,” she mused, tapping the side of her skull with one petite finger. Delilah grinned, reaching to re-pick up her cup of tea, noting that she was nearly finished. Sipping on the remaining liquid, Delilah neatly placed the empty cup and plate back on the table. 

“Well, I’d hate to cut things short, however I will be having to leave,” Delilah hummed to her little sister somewhat somberly. Delilah found Anna’s company truly pleasant, the endearing girl never failed to lift her spirits. While reluctant to leave, her chauffeur would be here to pick her up very soon. There was a dinner being held that same night, and she had to ensure she had enough time to prepare for the event. 

Anna pouted, a small whine escaping her throat, “Already?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Deliliah nodded over at Anna with a grin. “I’m afraid so. The hours really do fly by.”

Sighing, Anna nodded in defeat. “A shame, really. I don’t get to see you as often as I used to,” she admitted, a faint frown curling at her lips. 

“I agree. I have been a bit...preoccupied as of late, but we will most certainly have to make up for that.” Silently Anna agreed, bobbing her head. Delilah ran her eyes over her dear baby sister who had fallen quiet. A sigh slipped past Delilah’s cherry painted lips, “Come on now, little Bitsy, smile and hold yourself up higher for me, won't you? You wouldn’t want others to get the impression that you’re smaller than you already are.” 

Anna paused, before stubbornly raising her eyes to meet Delilah’s, a grin twitching at her lips that she refused to let spread. “I’m not _that_ small!” 

Huffing a laugh, Delilah threw the small brunette a sceptical once over with her eyes. “Oh right, because the other children aren’t quite as tall as you yet,” she shot back playfully.

Anan gasped in exasperation, “Wh-- I am not a child!”

Delilah quirked an eyebrow at her younger sister, “Perhaps, however that doesn’t change the fact that you have the appearance of one,” she grinned, moving to rise from her seat and pat down her dress for invisible dust. Anna huffed in frustration before also pushing back her own chair.

Politely tucking their chairs back underneath the tables, Delilah moved to embrace her sister, curling her arms around her sisters small and child like torso and pulling her close.   
Still annoyed by Deliliah’s previous remarks, Anna reluctantly wrapped her arms around her sister also, huffing into her shoulder. 

“Now, you take good care of yourself.” A small, almost sad pulled across Delilah’s lips as she pulled away from her sister, hands still at Anna’s shoulders as she inspected her lovely little sister. Stubbornly Anna diverted her golden tinged eyes in an act of rebellion, something like a pout twisting at her lips.   
Delilah couldn’t contain the huff of amusement at her sister’s. She couldn’t help but stare over at the petite sized little lady fondly. 

“Oh you’re simply adorable,” she gushed, cheekily outstretching her hand to quickly pinch at her sister’s cheeks. Anna’s eyes went wide, quickly swatting away Delilah’s hands.

“Stop! It’s embarrassing!” She whined, attracting the attention of several other nearby customers who glanced over their shoulders disapprovingly at whatever the ruckus was about. 

Delilah merely laughed in delight, it had been awhile since she truly had the opportunity to simply relax and have a good time. All the stress and expectations really got to a person after a while. 

“Alright, alright,” she relented, dropping her hands to her side, being sure to pick up her purse in the meantime. “Now I must be going, I'm sure my chauffeur is waiting for me outside. Have a safe trip home Anna.”

After a moment, Anna dropped her stubborn facade, sighing deeply. “Oh alright. I will miss you.”

Delilah bobbed her head with a small smile, “As while I.”

With another tender hug exchanged the two bidded each other farewell before departing in their own directions. Delilah made sure to smooth out her dress, before squaring her shoulders and striding out of the quaint little store.

Her dark eyes ran across the street, searching for the vehicle she would recognise as her escort. Humming to herself, she spotted the sleek black vehicle just a few cars down the street, her driver having already exited the car and stood patiently in anticipation of her arrival. 

Pleased, she waved warmly over at her chauffeur, Joseph. Though it seemed he hadn’t caught sight of her. Delilah pleasantly strolled over to the vehicle, only to bump into the torso of a well dressed men.

Delilah gasped, both herself and the stranger taking a step back to distance themselves as they apologised profusely.

“Oh my! I apologise deeply sir, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Delilah shot him a sympathetic smile, her gaze crawling up the stranger to meet his gaze only to stop dead upon finding two very familiar dark hues staring back at her. 

“Miss Cementine?” 

Delilah stared up at Mr.Greyson with wide eyes, having expected the man himself to be the last person she would run into. A beat of silence passed before she quickly regained her composure, folding her hands in front of her politely. 

“Oh, Mr. Greyson! I have to say you were far from who I was expecting to bump into today.” 

The darked eyed male quirked an eyebrow down at Delilah, a dazzling lopsided grin stretching across his lips, “You say that as if you expected to bump into someone today.”

Delilah paused, before chuckling. “Ah, perhaps I worded that oddly,” she mused. “Tell me Mr. Greyson, how is your investigation going?”

Weston shifted, crossing his arms over his chest comfortably. “Not very well, i have to say.”

“Oh, well i am sorry to hear that,” she shot him a sympathetic smile, “I don’t suppose I could be privy to some of the details of this case, do you?” 

Weston shook his head, “I’m afraid not Miss Clementine- all very classified information you see?”

Delilah nodded, “That’s alright, i suppose it’s nothing I should be getting involved in anyhow.” Glancing over to her Chaffeur, she found him looking over her way, curiosity spread across his expression. She nodded over at him in a gesture to tell him she’d be over in a second. Weston caught onto this movement and glanced back over his shoulder to follow Delilah’s gaze. Suddenly he stepped out of the way.

“Oh I apologise Miss Clementine, i didn’t mean to hold you up.”

Delilah looked back over to Weston, in which she was just taking note of his staggering height compared to her own as she stood in his shadow that loomed and enveloped her entirely. “Don’t worry about it, we weren’t talking for long anyway.”

He nodded in reply. “Yes, well, you have yourself a good day then,” he grinned.

A warm smile spread across Delilah’s lips, “Of course, you too Mr Greyson.” Turning gracefully on her heel she turned to leave, strolling over to where Joseph was waiting.

“Oh! And Miss Clementine!” Delilah paused in her tracks, curiously tilting her head to look over her shoulder at the tall dark haired male a few feet from her. She met his dark, penetrating gaze, swirling with some sort of indistinguishable emotion as he stared down at her. “Just remember, the station is open everyday. If you ever need anything, just tell the clerk you need to speak with me. They’ll let you in.” 

Delilah tensed, knowing immediately where his comment was stemming from. In an instant Delilah felt much more shy, unconsciously curling into herself ever so slight. “Why, thank you for your generosity,” she said bashfully. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Greyson,” she replied in a bid goodbye, before turning around completely and heading over to Joseph who had already moved to pull open the car door for her. 

What a peculiar man, she thought to herself. Willing opening his door to aid her for any purpose that may concern her. There weren’t many people in this world that would offer such a service without expecting something in return. Then again, perhaps he did in fact expect something, however, there was a certain genuity in his smile that assured her that he did not.  
Either way, she kept her walls built high. 

“Mrs. De Luca?” 

Delilah was brought to attention when she was suddenly addressed by her married name. She brought her gaze up to meet Joseph's stunning blue’s. “Oh, I apologise, I had lost myself in my thoughts there for a second.”

Warmth crept into his eyes, as he shook his head, “Do not worry about it Mrs. De Luca, we all do that at times,” he assured her, waiting patiently as she politely slipped into the vehicle, flattening her dress as she sat down before closing the door behind her. 

He swiftly moved around the vehicle, before slipping into the driver’s seat and started the car. Vibrations of the engine ran up and down through the car as the car was brought to life with a low growl. 

The vehicle pulled out of its parking place as the two sat in silence. However, the silence was soon interrupted by the drivers mild curiosity.

“Excuse me if I’m stepping out of my place, but may I ask who that man you were talking with was?”

Delilah paused from where she was sitting in the backseat, opposite where Joseph was driving, who didn’t bother to glance back and instead merely kept an eye on the road. She glanced up at the driver, pondering to herself, and after a moment she replied,

“Oh, him? Just some fellow i accidentally walked into just then. I’m not entirely sure who he is.”


	4. Chapter 4

Deep ocean blues and royal purple silks, woven into gowns adorned with pearls and diamonds; Glinting crystals intertwined with thin bands of gold and silver that sat snugly on dainty fingers and hung in between the curve of a lady’s breast.

It was all a woman could ever ask for.

Or at least, it seemed it was what many men had come to believe.

Because a kiss that pressed against one’s own with love and not lust, a gaze that burned with adoration and not carnality, and lips that purred sweet words and not primal urges was merely a naïve woman’s fantasy. Because love was just a wivestale you told your children of.  
Oh, how utterly misleading.

Delilah stubbornly held her chin up in the air, staring hard at herself in the mirror, breathing hard. Choking on her own sobs, she refused to let the burning liquid pooling at her eyes cascade down her flushed cheeks. Gritting her teeth, she glared into her own eyes, deep, mysterious brown hues that hid many underlying secrets and feelings.  
Dark brown eyes that surprised her for the first time when she found that they were not her own that she was staring deeply in, but another's, just the other day. Mr Greyson. 

What a strange man. A man who led a life that completely opposed her own, yet managed to possess eyes just as ominous but burnt with that same fire of indistinguishable emotions. A police officer- no, a detective, who sought out criminals and promised justice and a wife of a notorious mob boss.  
Two ends of the spectrum. How curious. 

A sharp intake of air brought Delilah back to reality as she quickly swallowed the slipped sob. Stubbornly she raised her hands and brushed away the tears threatening to spill. She wouldn’t cry- she refused to.  
She was stronger than that, bigger than that. She was a grown woman, she had no time for such childish behaviours. 

Her husband’s harsh words rang in her mind, his phantom firm touches danced across her skin as new hues of blues and purples curled across her limbs and crawled up her neck, fading just a kiss away from her jaw.  
Her husband, a strong, imposing man had a short fuse. A busy man with an eye for the finer things in life. There were many fears that came along with marrying such a dangerous enigma, however she was in no position to complain.

Though there were bad days, there were many pleasant ones. Days in which she would return home to find her days spoils, rewards of her complacantness and pleasant behaviour. Each and every day she would return home to a bouquet of flowers, and while her husband had always possessed restraint with the chocolates in fear she would put on weight, each time she was lucky enough to have his permission to eat them, they were always of the highest quality. 

Mr. De Luca. Her husband. Delilah always found he had many expectations of her, but that was a woman’s world, no? Women lived in a society filled with many expectations, and living to please their husband was merely one of them.  
Perhaps it wasn’t ideal, but Delilah had long since come to learn that the perfect man, a man she could truly fall in love and run away with was just another idealistic fantasy with no real world basis. 

It hurt, these story tales young girls were told as children. Raised with a false hope for the world, of their futures. Oh it stung, every fibre of her being screamed at her that there was more than this, something better, someone better.

Delilah squeezed her eyes shut. No matter how her heart screamed at her, she buried those kinds of thoughts deep down under lock and key, where nobody would ever find them. Daydreams such as those would be nothing but trouble to her. Delilah had more common sense than that. 

Forcing open her eyes, Delilah finally forced her gaze to pry from her reflection, sluggishly turning on her heel to slink to bed, missing the usual graceful twist of her limbs and perk to her step. No, nowadays that genuine joy that would twist at her grin and spark in her eyes had been stolen from her. Now it felt like a facade, like some pretty masquerade mask she hid behind, in which the ball she danced at was her life, making careful steps and dancing around the deadly truth of what one misstep would mean for her. 

Dropping into her own bed, void of any other life, not that Delilah had ever come to expect to find her husband waiting for her under the sheets. It wouldn’t be later until that night, if he even came home at all before he stumbled inside and dropped dead asleep across from her.  
Delilah was no fool, she knew the kinds of things the man she called her husband did, and what he was capable of. She knew that if she provoked him enough that she’d just as easily fall victim to him life so many others, though she hardly had a choice when he’d first displayed interest in her.  
What else was she supposed to do? Pack her things and leave? Where to? She had nothing, no one except her family, all of which lived in a single home in the middle of the suburbs. He had chosen her, and she was hopeless but to succumb to his wishes if she hoped to protect not only herself but those that she cared for. 

Delilah slipped under the cool silk of the bedsheets, blowing at the candle beside her bedside the lit the room as she did so. She laid comfortably, ignoring the sting running through her limbs and instead relishing in the chill that cooled her overheating limbs. Head pressing into pillow, she simply focused on her breathing as her eyes fluttered closed. She breathed deeply, taking pleasure in feeling the cool air that filled her lungs and numbed her body. 

Delilah was constantly playing a dangerous game. A dance in which one wrong twist or stumble could leave her world in shambles. But as long as she played her cards correctly, spun and bowed at the right times, she could make it through this.  
Delilah had always been a determined woman, and she wouldn’t give up now. 


	5. Chapter 5

Patty’s bakery, Delilah’s personal favourite place for baked goods. She simply adored the little cakes and biscuits they sold there. They were of a calibre higher than any other, even the ones her husband especially ordered. Delilah couldn’t visit the little bakery as often as she liked, as the allowance her husband granted her was small, and she was instructed to spend little on food. Her husband was always quite particular about her maintaining her appearance. 

Today, however, counted the thirty-fourth day since her last visit. A completely reasonable time in between each visit to grant another, she believed. That’s why Delilah currently found herself outside of the little store, with an eager smile pulling at her lips. 

She could already smell the melted butter and woft of chocolate that clung to the walls of the bakery, the store’s own signature scent. It reminded her of home, back when she was a young girl with her mother by her side, instructing her on how exactly to make oatmeal biscuits or some other delicious confectionery

Not hesitating a moment longer, Deliah escaped the busy street and pressed open the evenly split glass and wood door. Stepping instead and making sure to quietly close the door behind her, she ran her eyes over the lively interior. There were a few customers, a woman with two small children clinging to her hands as she ordered, another gentleman sitting at a table facing away from her, and elderly couple that sat tucked away in the corner of the room exchanging polite conversation over a cup of tea. It was all quite quaint and peaceful.  
Something like awe-struck content bubbled in Delilah’s chest. She couldn’t help the sense of warmth she felt in an atmosphere such as this. 

With a sincere grin decorating her lips she politely entered que behind the lady and her two children. She had spoken with the old lady who ran this shop plenty of times, and from the kindness etched in her skin and mirth in her eyes, Delilah couldn’t help but befriend the woman. Though nowadays the woman was quite old, and Delilah wondered how she managed on her own.  
In Delilah’s younger days she would help out here from time to time, but along came marriage and she’d found that yet another one of her routines were taken from her. 

“Delilah!” At her name she quirked her gaze up to meet the pale green eyes of a little white haired lady behind the counter. Delilah’s grin tugged at the edges as she stepped forward to the counter, where the woman and her children had moved from. 

“Oh hello Patty! It feels as if it has been forever since I have seen you!” 

The elder lady chuckled, “That would be because it has been!” She shook her head playfully, “Honestly, shame on you. Neglecting to come and visit little old me,” she tutted.

Giggling at Patty’s playfulness, Delilah pulled out her purse. “Yes well, i am very sorry about that. You know how life can be; very busy,” she sighed, pulling out the appropriate money for the same order she always ordered. Eyeing the treats on display, there were many things she would like to try, though she hardly wished to end up buying something she didn’t like and then be forced to wait another long stretch of time before being able to visit Patty’s bakery again. So for now Delilah merely played it safe.

“The usual, i imagine then?” Pattsy questioned with amusement as she eyed the money Delilah politely handed to her, not bothering to count the amount as she looked over at the younger woman fondly. “You should be more adventurous with the things you eat Delilah dear, ordering the same thing each time become quite boring, don’t you know?”

Delilah huffed a laugh, “I’m quite satisfied in the meantime with what I am getting now, do not worry yourself Patty, I am far from getting bored of your baked goods.”

Patty quirked an eyebrow at the remark as she bagged Delilah’s desired items. “Ah well, i’d sure hope not. Your my best customer, not having you here would put me out of business,” she grinned as she tottered back over to the counter to hand Delilah her sweet treats. 

“Me? Your best customer? Well, perhaps I used to be, but nowadays I hardly come in!”

Patty grinned mischievously, before shaking her head. “Yes, well, who do you think attracts the customers in? It certainly isn’t my good looks,” she winked. 

Delilah paused, dumbfounded for a split second, before joined Patty’s laughter. What a wonderfully silly old lady. Most older women were so straight laced and uptight, yet Patty had to come along and break the stereotype. Delilah was quite thankful for her. It taught her that being born in a certain generation didn’t necessarily make you stuck in their ways, that you could still always be your own person.  
Delilah admired her for that.

“Is that so?” Delilah questioned after their laughter finally died out, “I do not see anyone here that I’ve managed to drag in with my charming appearance.”

Patty dusted her hands of the flour that coated them, “All except that young gentleman over there that seems particularly interested in you over there,” she nodded over at a table behind Delilah.

Delilah paused, before proceeding to tilt her head over her shoulder to inspect the man sitting at the table a few metres away from her. From the entrance of the bakery, he appeared like any other man her own age, however from this angle, Delilah couldn’t stop the surprise stretching across her face. 

“What is with that face missy?” Betty spoke, recapturing Delilah’s attention. “Surely you know you’re own beauty. You cannot be that dense to not be able to see it,” she jabbed good-naturedly. 

Delilah paused, still slightly surprised by this revelation. How utterly convenient. “Actually, I happen to know this man. It seems we keep running into each other.”

Betty seemed interested by this sudden turn of events. “Oh? Perhaps it’s fate then?”

Delilah shot Betty a sceptical look. “Fate? Please, we all know fate is a mere wivestale.”

Betty chuckled, shaking her head, “Perhaps for the shallow minded.”

Not entirely sure how to respond, she simply gave Betty a curious look. For the shallow minded? Ah well, it made sense for the older generations to still be so superstitious. All so stubborn and stuck in their old ways and traditions. “Maybe so Patty, i think it’s all just coincidence.”

Patty tutted, “No such thing as coincidence missy, the good Lord has a plan for us all.”

Delilah quirked an eyebrow. A plan? She couldn’t help the sigh that slipped past her lips. She wondered just what kind of plan God could have in store for her. She didn’t see how her current conditions could be brought upon by god, why would he condemn her to such a fate of despair and abuse? No, this was no working of god, surely this world would be much further from its current state of corruption if God was truly taking part in mortal affairs. 

“Yes well, God’s plan for me is certainly quite questionable then.” Patty shook her head in amusement at Delilah’s mild disbelief. 

“God works in mysterious ways,” is all she mused before gesturing over to the dark haired man behind Delilah, “Now go on, talk to him.” Delilah gave Patty a pointed look. In reply the old lady merely chuckled. “Come on now, don’t be shy. If the two of you keep running into each other, then it’s obvious God has brought the two of you together for a reason.”

Delilah eyed the woman with a tight smile stretched across her lips. Patty and her religious superstitions. A sigh fell from Delilah’s lips as she finally relented. “While I’m not entirely sure about your reasoning, Mr Greyson is quite the friendly fellow- so i will run over and say hello, especially if he has already noticed my presence.” 

Patty’s face lit up, “Oh good! Be sure to get his landline, I only caught a glance but he’s quite the handsome fellow,” she winked. 

Delilah gaped, “I’ll have you know I am a married woman!” She scolded the older lady lightly, to which Patty remained unfazed with only a knowing grin spread across her lips. 

“Ah yes, but are you a _happily_ married woman?”

Delilah’s words died in her throat. She stared blankly over at the elder woman whom she’d been acquainted with for many years now. She felt that it would be appropriate to react harshly to such an intrusive question, however staring at the white haired lady with warm eyes, she couldn’t find it within her to be angry.  
“...Happily or not, Patty, I’m still married nonetheless,” Delilah replied coolly after a few moments hesitation. However, Patty didn’t seem put off by this in the slightest, which only went to prove to Delilah that Patty was far more fearless then she’d previously thought.

“Yes well, you are still young- not to mention childless. Do not let a man who doesn’t make you happy hold you back.” 

Delilah paused, searching Patty’s gaze inquisitively. For some strange reason, Delilah felt as if those words were much more personal to Patty then she let on. There was a strange emotion hiding behind the warmth of her eyes, something like guarded sadness, or perhaps nostalgia. Unlike the woman in front of her, Delilah decided not to be privy in somebody else business and didn’t press on the topic.  
“....Well, it was, nice, to see you again Patty. Anyhow, I won't hold you up any longer,” Delilah stretched a friendly grin across her lips, that wasn’t quite as genuine as it once was when she first entered the store. “Do take care of yourself,” she added, this time with much more sincerity.  
Though while Patty may have… peculiar advice and ideologies, Delilah couldn’t deny that she cared for the sweet, opinionated woman, as eccentric as she occasionally could be. 

“Of course, and you the same dearie!” She cheered as Delilah spun around with her bagged treats in hand. 

Delilah gave Patty once last polite wave goodbye, before her eyes ran across the room to locate the familiar male adorned in the white button up, sleeves pushed up his arms just like every other encounter she had with the man.  
Not facing her direction, he didn’t spot her approaching until she stood right by his left.

In surprise he glanced up, settling the cup of coffee at his lips back down on the table. “Oh, Miss Clementine,” he greeted, shifting in his seat to face Delilah, “I thought that was you, quite a coincidence that we have yet again run into each other, don’t you think?” 

Delilah smiled warmly, “Quite. Are you expecting anyone?” She inquired.

Weston seemed to get the gist of what she was imply and glanced over at the empty seat across from him. “Oh not at all, please, feel free to take a seat,” he grinned.

Nodding, she gracefully slipped into her chair, smoothing her dress down as she does so. 

"So, i don't believe i've seen you here before?"

"Yes well, neither have i, then again i only discovered the place a couple weeks back."

"That makes sense. I have been coming around here for years now, I know Patty here personally, you see? Unfortunately i haven't been able to visit as often as i would prefer."

"And why is that?"

"Well.. you know how it is, life gets busy."

"Too busy to take five minutes to pop into a store and buy yourself something nice to eat?"

Delilah huffed a laugh and glanced away from Weston, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "Yes well, my husband doesn't exactly approve..."

Weston gave Delilah a quizzical look, "Doesn't approve of what?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Delilah's gaze flickered over Weston up and down. "Come on now, surely you'd have an idea. A woman can't expect to stay beautiful without watching what she eats..."

To Delilah's own surprise, she watched Weston stiffen and eyes widen in shock. "That's what your husband is afraid of?"

Delilah wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

Weston shook his head, "I'll have you know my mother had always had a bit of meat on her bones, but she'd always have men falling at her feet left and right. A wonder how my father could have ever thought to leave her- she was an absolutely stunning woman, even now, when she isn't quite as young as she used to be." Delilah's brows quirked in interest, never had she thought she's see the day where she'd hear a man preach about how a woman was still beautiful both when they were not quite as petite as social customs demands or after a woman had outlived her prime years. "I intend no offence to you or your husband, but he'd have to be close minded to assume a little more to hold onto could ever take away from your beauty," Weston sighs, "I suppose he'd be the type to think the same with age, right? Ah no wonder you women are constantly frustrated with us men, i'd know, my father thought the same of my mother. A fool, he was." 

There was a beat of silence, as staring over at the apparent gentlemen across from her was the only thing Delilah found herself able to do. Shock twisted in her gut, her eyes rabidly searching the man's in front of her. She could hardly believe the words escaping his mouth. Yet the sincerity held in Weston's words was far to raw and honest to be able to ignore.  
Delilah nearly laughed. Here she sat by what was by far the strangest, most peculiar man in the city. Yet she couldn't help the wide and earnest grin that spread across her lips. 

"Tell me, Mr Greyson,-"

"-Please, just Weston is alright.

Delilah paused, before a warmness spread across her face, "Alright, Weston it is then. I suppose i best return the favour then, no? Just Delilah to you as well," Weston grinned. Staring over at him fondly, she finished her previous question, " Now, answer honestly, Do you truly believe your mother to be beautiful?"

Weston paused, a curious lopsided grin settled at his lips, laughter sparkling in his eyes, "Ah, i'm so glad you asked, i had thought i wasn't quite clear enough with my words beforehand, " he mused.

Delilah shook her head, a wide grin slapped across her face, "Yes, yes, a silly question i know, but i had to make sure."

"Well to answer your question, yes, i do happen to think my mother to be a beautiful woman. I didn't simply just receive genetics such as my own from nowhere."

Delilah gasped, "Quite the confidence you have there!"

A deep chuckle rolled off from Weston's tongue, as Delilah noticed him relax further in his seat. "I have to be confident, i find the ladies quite like it," he winked.

"You speak as if women all fall head over heels for you, yet i see no ring," she chirped, eyes flickering down at his hand resting upon the table.

Weston grinned, "I think you'll find that i'm not quite like other men. I will not settle for just any beautiful women that i happen across. I like to think myself quite the catch," he joked.

Playfully, Delilah rolled her eyes. She was almost surprised, especially when Weston didn't seem to react other then grin wider. If she would have had to behaved the same in front of any other man she was sure she'd have been ridiculed. "Please," she mused after a moment of cautious hesitation, "You're insufferable." 

Amusement crinkled at Weston's eyes as he shifted in his seat before settling comfortably in his chair once again. "And yet here you are," a wide, dazzling grin stretched across his lips, "Still sitting across from me." 

Delilah gasped, an amused grin playing at her lips as she took a moment to rack her mind for something witty to reply with before huffing in dismay. This man was too confident for his own good. "Really now? The same could be said for you. Here i was thinking you were yet another man that had fallen for my charms. Perhaps i thought i could spare a second to grace you with my presence?" 

Weston seemed to be amused by the comment, a small chuckle slipping past his lips. "I'm not too sure how accurate all of that was, but there is certainly one thing you were correct about."

Delilah quirked an eyebrow in interest, "and that would be?" She questioned as Weston leaned forward over the table, a toothy smirk draped over his lips.

"I just may have fallen for your charms," he chuckled.

Delilah's eyebrows shot up as she scoffed, a wide grin playing at her lips. "I see now," she shook her head, "You're a flirt, Mr Greyson."

The grin curling on Weston's lips spread further, "Ah well, i prefer the word... complimentary." 

Rolling her eyes she chose to ignore the comment, her smile never wavering. "Well it is definitely an improvement from the first night i met you. Quite serious and straight to business."

Weston pulled back, sitting back properly in his seat as he shrugged. "There's a time for work and a time for play, Delilah."

"I agree, and i must admit, you're quite good at it."

Seemingly pleased by that comment, Weston huffed a chuckle, before glancing down at the watch strapped to his wrist. "I'm pleased to hear that. I do hope to be good at what i do," a small, near unnoticeable frown curled at the ends of his lips as he looked at the time, "It seems i got caught up in your company, it's near the end of my lunch break."

Delilah shifted in her seat, sensing it was the end of the conversation and about time to leave. "Well, i won't hold you up. You proved to be most interesting company," she grinned as both of them slid out of their seats and stood up.

Sliding his chair back under the table, he grinned, "And as were you, Delilah."

Nodding, she bid the warm man goodbye. "You have yourself a good day, Weston. Until next time, if life so chooses our paths to cross again," that is, if this whole 'fate' idea wasn't a hoax.

"Well, i'll be holding onto the faith that life is in our favour."

Delilah grinned, waving the man off as he exited the building, the chime of the little bell hanging on the door a final goodbye before the door closed behind him. 

Delilah merely stood for a few minutes, a small but warm smile curled across her lips.   
She couldn't help but be impressed by the man she had just encountered for the third time now. What an utterly wonderful person. Delilah didn't have to know the gentleman for long to know that he would be one of those rare bunch of truly splendid, kind people that seemed to have become a rarity nowadays. 

"Well? Did you get his landline?" 

Shocked out of her thoughts, she glanced over at the old lady behind the counter and sighed, shaking her head to herself. 

Fate was an utterly ridiculous idea. Delilah already knew that as soon as he walked out of that door that they'd never meet again. 


	6. Chapter 6

The streets were quiet, the life of the city smothered as the shadows of the night draped over the city. Inky oceans consumed the blues of the skies and decorated itself with a plethora of lights that illuminated all that there was to see. 

Sipping the drink he seemed ever so fond of, a coffee topped with both extra milk and sugar, he stared out of the front window of his car, watching the street from the alley he was parked in. It was late at night, perhaps eleven at night and he was hiding out in his car on a stakeout.   
That phone call he had with Bobby proved useful and now he found himself following another lead. 

Apparently Mr. De Luca owned the Pokies down on James street and commonly visited the place with his wife. Weston hadn't managed to wrangle the name of Marvin's wife out of Bobby, but the information he had gotten was enough to go off.   
By now he had been sitting here for at least five hours, and his coffee had long since gone cold. Weston couldn't afford to go anywhere to get a new cup of coffee, nor could he afford to give up for the night and go home. He hadn't seen anyone enter, but he had gotten here later then he would have liked and it wouldn't have been unreasonable to assume that the man could have already entered. So for now, he was stuck here, watching everybody who walked in and out those doors. 

Another hour of sitting idly, observing the area through tired eyes that Weston began to nod off. Catching himself, he jerked in his seat, before sighing. Begrudgingly he twisted in his seat and pushed open the car door, figuring some cool air would help him wake up a bit. Weston hardly felt the cool air biting at his skin as he'd already come dressed for the occasion, in several layers of warm clothing. The nights were getting cooler and Weston was not keen on getting sick anytime soon.   
Having this in mind, Weston made note to be outside for too long. 

Quietly, he pushed closed his door before walking down the alley, resting upon the brick wall right at the end, a step away from the sidewalk of the street but still hidden in the darkness where the street lamp's ominous glow couldn't reach. 

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his dark coat, a yawn rolled off his tongue. He longed for the warm and reassuring feel of his blankets and the press of his mattress as he rolled over in bed, head buried in his pillows. Weston wasn't much for sleeping in, he'd always been rather productive and energise (much to his family's playful scorn), but currently he wished nothing more just for being able to collapse in bed and sleep into next week. He could feel the bags growing under his eyes as he tenderly rubbed at he temples. However he was brought out of his sleepy state as the sound of clicking heels echoed down the street. 

Dropping his hands he ran his eyes over the street until they eventually rested on a woman dressed in a flattering green and blue dress, whose features he couldn't make out in the darkness. He eyed the woman for a second, curious as to why she would be crossing the road from where she assumingly was at the pokies across the street.

A frown tugged at his lips. She shouldn't be out so late, who knew what creeps were out? It was for that very same reason Weston was hesitant to approach her and make sure she was alright or is she needed any assistance- to her she was a complete strangers, hardly someone she would have any reason to trust,

Conflicted as what to do, the decision was made for him when suddenly his name was called. He tensed, immediately waking up as he looked up where the noise came from. 

"Weston?"

His eyes widened in surprise, he couldn't believe who he was seeing.

He guessed life was on their side after all.

"Delilah?" He ushered, taken aback as he pushed himself off the wall and took to approach her from where she was walking on the sidewalk toward him, "What are you doing out here so late?"

The two stopped when they were just a foot away from each other, Delilah gripping her exposed arms tenderly as Weston laxly crossed his arms over his chest.   
Glancing away, it took Delilah a second to look back at Weston.

"Oh, well, i was just over at the Pokkie's," she answered calmly. Weston furrowed his brows, noting the particularly monotone sound of her voice. She must just be tired, he figured.

"By yourself?" He pressed. "I didn't really take you as the type of woman who took up gambling," he chuckled lightly, concern still twisting in his gut.

Delilah shook her head at his question, "I'm here with my husband, actually."

Nodding, Weston found himself able to relax a little more. "Where is he now?"

She shrugged, much to Weston's concern. Suddenly he wasn't quite as relaxed as beforehand. "Still inside, i just... needed to get away from it all, get a breath of fresh air," she huffed a laugh, that felt weaker that it should be. "I will most likely just go home.." She trailed over as her gaze dropped from Weston's and over to the empty street beside her.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he pressed on the subject, especially concerned over Delilah's unusually passive behaviour. He had only spoken with her a few times, but this seemed so out of character for her. Perhaps this was just how she was like after a long day? "With who? Is your husband taking you home or is someone else coming to pick you up?"

Delilah rose her head to give Weston a curious look, a confused ghost of a smile curling at her lips. "You seem quite concerned about the topic," she noted, searching Weston's expression as he glanced over at the Pokies from across the street. 

A sigh rolled from Weston's tongue, "I'm not just concerned about the topic, I'm concerned about you, Delilah." Delilah paused, surprised by Weston's reply. For the first time that night, a large, genuine grin stretched across her lips. "The city at this time of night is no place for ladies, or anyone really."

Delilah quirked a brow at the statement, before huffing to herself. "What? Do you not believe i'd be capable to defend myself?"

Weston shook his head, "Able to defend yourself or not- you shouldn't have to in the first place."

Once again, Delilah found herself falling silent before him. Though the kind of silence she found herself falling to in his presence was not the kind she was used to. It wasn't the usual compliant, submissive silence, instead it was the silence from being stunned, in the most pleasant ways possible- if the happy feeling twisting in her gut was anything to go by. Before she had believed she'd never run into the man again, but now she was glad she had.   
Delilah sighed despite the smile across her lips. "Yes, alright Mr. Charming, I understand, you always have the right things to say. Now, has your curiosity been sated yet?"

Weston quirked an eyebrow, "Mr. Charming?"

Delilah rolled her eyes, her grin widening, "Oh, don't let it-"

"-no no," he interrupted, a toothy grin widening across his lips, "I quite like it," he teased, "Call me Mr. Charming from now on, won't you?"

Before she could stop herself a laugh escaped her lips, much to Weston's satisfaction as he visibly perked. Shaking her head, Delilah eyed the tall man in front of her. She couldn't believe the male in front of her. "Apologises, but it seemed i haven't quite fallen victim to your charms yet for that to occur."

Snapping his fingers, Weston shook with laughter. "Ah, a loss on my own part." The two smiled goofily at each other, merely falling into a comfortable silence, locking gazes that they both seemed unable to glance away from. Snapping himself out of it, Weston cleared his throat. "Ah well, you must be cold," he scolded himself for not noticing her lack of warm clothing earlier, glancing over at her hands gripping at her arms. 

Delilah's eyes widened in surprised, having completely forgotten about the cold pinching at her arms having been too caught up talking to Weston. She went to refuse and assure him she was alright, but it was too late as Weston was already shrugging out of his thick woollen overcoat. Next thing she knew the warm material was being draped over her shoulders as Weston assisted her putting her arms through the sleeves.  
Delilah shivered in delight, relishing in the body warmth that remained from when Weston was wearing the coat and hugging the oversized material closer. Compared to her own frame, the coat was like a thick and warm gown the ended at her knees, with sleeves that she would have to roll up many times before she'd find her hands. It was at this moment Delilah became really conscious on how much larger Weston was then her. 

"So, you never did answer my question," Delilah glanced up at Weston, meeting his dark eyes, invisible in the darkness. "Is someone coming to take you home? Will your husband be out soon?"

Delilah shook her head, no longer hesitant to dance around the subject with him. Delilah believed Weston to be a truly sweet man, and she might have even begun to.. trust him. "No, though i don't live far from here. I was planning on walking."

Weston gaped. Walking? He stared down at Delilah, at her small, petite form hidden behind his much larger coat. He hated to assume she was weaker, but despite the fire that danced in her eyes, he was afraid what could have happened if someone so chose to do something to her.   
After a moment, Weston finally found his words. "I see..." he hummed, before shaking his head a moment later, "Not a chance."

Delilah quirked an eyebrow as Weston crossed his arms, "Excuse me?"

"You're not walking," he answered simply, "Come, i'll drive you home," he gestured down the alley where his car was parked.   
At this point, Weston couldn't care less about the stakeout. 

Of course, it was very important, but this woman, Delilah, whom he had just decided he saw as a friend, was a higher priority then some stakeout. He could always try again tomorrow. For now though, he just had to make sure Delilah would be safe.

Delilah gaped, before shaking her head, "Oh no, that won't be necessary..."

"Nonsense. I'm driving. I refuse to let you walk on your own. And if you don't feel comfortable getting in the vehicle with me, then i'll walk with you. Either way, i'm not allowing you to roam the streets at night by yourself."

Delilah was silent, an indistinguishable emotion spinning in her eyes as she stared up at Weston. A moment later, she relented, glancing down the alley over at his car. "...Stakeout?" She whispered, to which Weston merely nodded, not bothering to elaborate on the topic. "...Oh alright, i'll allow you to drive me."

A victorious grin spread across Weston's lips as he instantly relaxed. "Alright. Tell me the directions and we'll be there in no time."

He took the lead over to the vehicle, wandering over to the passenger side to hold the door open for Delilah, to which she smiled and thanked him for before he wandered back around and entered the drivers seat.

Delilah was truthful when she said she simply lived near by. From that statement Weston made the correct assumption that she must live in the wealthier neighbourhood nearby. However, he was nearly gobsmacked as soon he pulled up the evenly paved driveway of what could easily be referred to as a mansion. 

Delilah laughed at his reactions, before tenderly announcing how much she too appreciated it, having grown up as lower-middle class herself. Weston found himself very much being able to relate with her, especially on the topic of being born and raised in similar economic classes. 

He grinned as Delilah exited the car, the two bidding each other goodnight. Weston waited until Delilah was safely inside before pulling out of the driveway to head home, an odd but pleasant feeling twisting in his gut, and a stubborn grin sitting on his lips that refused to go away. 


	7. Chapter 7

It had been months since Delilah last visited her childhood home. It used to be the castle she'd roam as a small girl, now it was merely a quaint little lower-middle class house she'd use to live in. Having lived a life of luxury with a bedroom easily half the size of her entire childhood home, it had ruined her ability to really appreciate the smaller things in life. 

Nonetheless, she loved the place just as much as she used to. It was the place she was raised, after all. 

Her mother passed by, a wide grin on her lips and smile lines crinkled beside her eyes. In her hand was a basket, filled with freshly folded towels that she went to go put away.   
Together, Delilah, her mother and Anna sat in the living room, folding all of the households washing. Delilah had managed to get permission from Marvin to visit her family, and it happened to be a Sunday.  
That morning Delilah had gone to church with the both of them and her father, and as tradition went, afterwards all the ladies of the household would take to having one large cleaning session.

Delilah didn't mind, she missed being able to share stories and laugh with her little sister and mother as they all sat together, doing idle tasks such as folding the washing to pass the time. It used to be a simple, but satisfying. Though everything seemed to stage after she first put herself out on stage.   
She'd always been told she had a lovely voice, and she loved to use it, love to move and twist her body, watched the way it complimented the music that escaped her music. 

If she'd known where the stage would take her, she'd have simply stayed home that day she first put her name out there. 

"Delilah?" The woman in question stiffened as her name was called, eyes flickering over to meet her mother's. A warm smile curled as she spotted her delicate and gradually aging mother. She couldn't help but think of the time Weston had expressed to her about his own fondness for his mother when she looked over at her. 

"Yes mother?" 

Her mother chuckled to herself, "Are you alright there sweet-one? You were in a world of your own."

Delilah bobbed her head, "Yes of course, i was simply thinking..." She informed her mother, staring over at her fondly. Despite the age chiseled into her skin, the longer she stared she found there was a certain life in her mother's hazel eyes, a spark, a flare perhaps.   
Laughter seemed to have permanently been curled at the little grin that always graced her lips, and the way she held herself, as if she was just as young and confident as she used to be.

Perhaps Weston was right. Age didn't necessarily take away beauty. It simply morphed into another form.

"Ah, i understand. I do that too a lot now...simply comes with age," her mother sighed back. "Now, tell me Delilah, what have you been getting up to in your free time? I imagine you will have had plenty of free time only having to work part time as a stage performer, having a husband as wealthy as your own to be able to support you whether you chose to work or not."

Delilah's lips thinned into a flat line. She wanted to tell her mother, collapse into her fragile but comforting arms and sobbed as she ran her fingers through her hair, just as she did as a child.   
She wanted to be able to tell them exactly who her husband was, and have them whisk her away from everything. But no matter how much she dreamed, she couldn't. Delilah could never put her family in danger like that. It wasn't like they were capable of doing anything from stopping him anyway. 

"Yes well, just the usual activities mother. I went to patty's bakery the other day, she's just as well as the last time i saw her."

Mary, her mother nodded in acknowledgement, picking up one of the unfolded white towels at her feet into the air to begin to fold it, as Anna returned from outside, holding a basket filled with dry clothing from the line outside that she'd escaped to go get a few moments ago. "Patty? Oh i like her, her pastries are divine!" She cheered as the group chuckled at her enthusiasm. 

"Yes well, as nice as it is to hear how Patty has been doing, surely you have been up to more then that? Made any new friends since you last visited? You've always been good at that."

Delilah looked over at her mother, and dropped the dress she was folding in her lap. "Well, not really," her mother frowned at Delilah's particularly strange behaviour. "Except perhaps.."

Mary quirked a fine eyebrow, "Go on," she gestured her free hand.

"Ah well, there is this gentleman i know by the name of Weston," she started only to receive a chorus of giggles and scandalous gasps. 

"A gentleman huh?" Anna hummed with mischief glinting in her eyes. Delilah merely rolled her own at her sisters antics a grin full of mirth at her lips. "Please do go on..."

Delilah shook her head, "Oh please, Anna. I'm a married woman!"

It was her mothers laughter at the statement that once again caught Delilah's attention as she shifted to look back over to her mother. 

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean you cannot enjoy a fine man's presence," she grinned.

In exasperation, Delilah shook her head. "You two are nothing but trouble."

The two grinned, laughing with each other at Delilah's dismay. 

"Oh lighten up dearie," her mother chuckled, eyes glinting with mirth, "You know we wouldn't try to do anything to put a wedge between you and your husband."

Delilah stiffened, but nodded anyway, peering down at the clothing she was folding instead of her mother or sister. "Yes well, i already got enough of that talk with Patty the other day," she sighed.

Anna quirked a brow in interest, "Oh? Over the same man?"

Delilah nodded, as one again her sister and mother giggled to each other like little children. 

"Well, perhaps it's fate the two of you met."

Delilah gasped- What was it with people announcing to her that meeting Weston was fate?!


	8. Chapter 8

It was a fine Saturday morning, and the local markets at town square were once again being held. People from all across the city came to visit and buy the fresh produce provided. 

It was for that very same reason that Weston found himself there, with two young boys glued to each arm as he walking between the stalls.   
He glanced over to the two, both possessing the same golden hair of his sister. 

Helen, Weston's older sister happened to be busy that day, and had requested from Weston that he go and do their routine grocery shopping down at the markets that day. Of course, Weston immediately agreed. His sister had always been quite independent by nature, and asked little of anyone, so Weston made extra effort to abide by her wishes whenever she did so. Helen herself had Weston out countless times, and for that he was forever grateful to his older sibling. 

When he had walked into his sister's home to retrieve the shopping list and money from Helen, he'd somehow managed to have his two nephews cling themselves to him in the mean time.  
His sister went to scold them but Weston merely laughed and ruffled the boys' hair, assuring her that it was fine and that they could come with him. 

So with the small fingers of an eight and six year old entwined with his own, they set off, venturing for the next ingredient on the list.

"Alright boys," he spoke, capturing the two little one's attentions. They peered up at him curiously. "Lets play a game," a mused, "We're adventurers, and every item on this list is out treasure," he glanced over at both of his nephew's captivated faces with a grin curling at his lip, "You have to help me hunt out this treasure- as quick as you can as we walk, alright?"

Daniel, the eldest of the two and Edward, the younger boy, both nodded eagerly at Weston's request, cheering in delight. 

"Yes of course!" Daniel cheered, already whipping his head around to squint over at every stall, while Edward brought a hand to his forehead in a mock salute.

"Aye sir!"

Weston chuckled, shaking his head at the boys' antics. "I haven't told you what we're looking for yet," he grinned.

"Oh," the two boys sheepishly looked back up at him.

With a toothy grin at his lips, he paused where stood, temporarily letting go of Daniels hand to search his pockets and pull out the list. He ran his gaze over it, thinking of where every item could be. Retaking Daniel's hand, he nodded forward. "Alright, the first treasure is some fresh tomatoes, may the best adventurer win!"

All the cheered, Weston having to tighten his grip on their hands so that they didn't run off into different directions in their own excitement. Weston chuckled as the two tugged at his arms, urging him to walk faster.   
Weston didn't have to be a father to know he'd love to be one. 

This game of playing as adventurers and hunting 'treasure' continued for another ten or so items on the list. Both young boys, while excitable were very well behaved and polite, and Weston had no one to give credit to except his sister, who was naturally very polite and orderly. Though while two very different people, Weston very much admired his older sister, a lot of what he has learnt, especially in his younger years he'd had his sister to thank for. 

Caught up in his thoughts, he was almost dragged into a well dressed lady by his nephews, he paused, in result halting both boys in their spot in which they continued to whine about. "Careful you two!" He scolded lightly, "We almost ran into the lady." Weston glanced over at the woman to apologise only to have his breath catch in his throat.

"Delilah?" He ushered incredulously. He straightened,a girl curling at his lips, "Well, this is simply getting ridiculous!" He exclaimed as Daniel and Edward shifted to join his side. "Not that it isn't as pleasant as always to have your company."

Delilah, just as surprised as Weston took a moment to stare over at him with wide eyes before clearing her throat and regaining her composure. "I agree completely! It's starting to feel much more then coincidence that we keep running into each other..." She mumbled off at the end, which Weston tilted his head over at her curiously to ask her to repeat it only for him to get cut of. "Anyway, tell me who these lovely boys are," she smiled, bending slightly to make eye contact with the two off them. 

The two shot back lopsided grins at her, as Daniel was the first to step forward and make a move. "I'm Daniel!" He cheered, raising a hand to offer Delilah, in which she whole-heartedly accepted, only to be surprised when the eight-year-old brought it to his lips, as he peered up at her with charming smirk tugged across his lips. "Weston's favourite nephew." He finished introducing himself before dropping her hand and taking a step back as Delilah and Weston both gaped, Edward complaining that Daniel was in fact, not, the favourite.

A second later and Delilah and Weston both found themselves laughing whole-heartedly amongst themselves. What a mischievous boy.   
Delilah shook her head, her cheeks hurting at how far wide her grin spread as she composed herself enough to stare over at Weston with a spark in her eyes, "He gets that kind of charm from you, no doubt," she mused, in which Weston couldn't help but wheeze in reply.

"Ah, learning from the best then," he choked out, taking a moment to gasp for the air he'd previously had forgotten to breath, too busy laughing. 

Delilah went to reply by Weston turned to look down at Edward when a tug at the side of his shirt caught his attention.   
"Yes, Edward?" He questioned warmly.

"Who's this?" The boy questioned shyly, ducking behind Weston's arm to peer not-so-discreetly at Delilah. Weston paused, before shifting his gaze back over to his friend. Of course- he'd completely forgotten to introduce everyone, even if Daniel had already taken that task upon himself. 

"Oh, apologises, boys, this is Delilah, a good friend of mine," Weston looked up at her to find she was staring over at him with wide eyes, which soon melted into a warm smile. "Delilah, these are my nephews," he grinned, gesturing over to the older of the two," This is Daniel, as he'd previously introduced himself as, and this is Edward," he lifted his arm to reveal the younger boy, who quickly scurried to hide further behind him. "He's a tad shy," Weston mused to Delilah as the two laughed warmly together.

"Well," Delilah hummed, "both seem like very sweet, lovely boys. Tell me, how old are you both?"

"I'm eight!" Daniel exclaimed without hesitation, quick to drop Weston's hand to show off his age with his fingers. Delilah nodded, giggling at the boy's excited grin slapped across his face before turning to try and get a glance at Edward who was peering out from behind Weston to tentatively stare over at her.

"And you?" She ushered, more gently then before to try and encourage a response from him. At his lack of reply,Weston move his arm to rub Edward's back in his own attempts to comfort the young boy. 

"It's alright Edward, i assure you Delilah is very nice, i'm sure Delilah would be simply delighted to know you better," Weston's gaze flickered over to Delilah seeking reassurance in which she bobbed her head warmly, staring over at the boy kindly. 

Hesitantly, the boy nodded and peeked his head out just a little bit further. "...I'm this many..." He mumbled, holding out six fingers for Delilah to see.

She gasped, "Six? Quite the little man you are!"

Edward seemed to take that in stride, puffing his chest in pride as a small grin quirked at his lips. Happily, he nodded in reply. 

Weston chuckled, ruffling the boys hair. "Ah, good on you Ed, being so brave," he grinned at the boy, in which Ed twisted to shoot him an equally proud toothy grin that sat across his round baby-face.

"Well, It was very nice seeing you three, but i suppose i better not hold you up," Delilah suddenly mentioned, capturing Weston's attention as the boys pouted. 

"No, no, if you have time, i'd love for you to stay for a while and walk with us," Weston grinned, retaking the boy's hands in his own, "What are you looking for? Edward and Daniel here are expert adventurers-they'll find everything you need in no time." Weston mused as the two cheered happily in agreement. 

"You need it-we'll find it miss!" Daniel grinned boldly.

Delilah quirked an eyebrow, a grin twitching at her lips. "Well, i suppose in that case, i couldn't turn down an offer like that."

"Yes!" Daniel pumped the air as Edward gripped tighter onto Weston eagerly. 

"Glad to have you apart of the team," Weston winked, allowing Delilah to take Daniel's side to walk along with the group. 

Delilah grinned, "Yes well, I'm glad you'd have me."

Weston waved her off, Edward's hand still in his own, "Anytime." 

At first the group continued to shop for what was on the shopping list Weston had received, only for Weston to pause when he remembered Delilah was here too, which she then quickly reassured him that she was simply here to look around. Weston had nodded, a carried on, grinning as mostly Daniel, but occasionally Edward pummelled her with questions in their own form of friendly banter. 

"So, how long have you known my uncle?" Daniel inquired innocently, inspecting the crisp green apple in his hand, before nodding in satisfaction at his findings and handing it over to the shopkeeper to bag in approval before searching for more. 

Weston shook his head, exasperated at the prying questions little children were ever so fond of asking. Delilah seemed unfazed, however. "Weston?" She glanced over at him, "Well, we've run into each other a fair few times over the course of a month or two now," she grinned. "It seems we constantly run into each other wherever we go."

"I see. Are you two good friends?" Daniel turned back around with a bag of apples in his hand after having paid the shopkeeper with the money Weston had entrusted to him. 

This time Delilah didn't look back over at Weston, merely bobbing her head in reply. "I'd say so," she smiled warmly as the group continued moving to venture for one of the last items on the list.

"Huh. Do you two see each other often?"

The two in question glanced over at each other, trying to determine an answer. Instead of Delilah, this time Weston replied instead. "Well, not particularly. We only ever see each other when we happen to run into each other,"

At this reply the two boys gasped. "What!" Daniel yelped, spinning his heel to put his fists at his hips sternly. "You two never go to each other's houses?"

Delilah chuckled calmly, "We don't exactly have any means of communications, nor do we know where the other lives," Delilah paused, "Well, i'm still unaware of where Weston lives."

Daniel shook his head, but before he could continue, Edward spoke for him, both to Weston's and Delilah's surprise. 

"You should give each other your landline digits!" He smiled, for the first time standing out from behind Weston completely for Delilah to see.

She paused, giving the cute boy dressed in overalls a once over, before mirth gleamed in her eyes. "Well, that's simply a marvellous idea, you're quite an intelligent little one, aren't you?" She cooed.

"Hey! I was going to say that too!" Daniel pouted, to which Delilah chuckled and turned to face him too. 

"Well, the same goes to you as well then," she grinned, outstretching a hand to tenderly poke Daniel's nose. The boy scrunched his nose, before lifting at hand to scratch at his nose, now itchy after the gentle touch. 

Weston, totally unopposed to the idea nodded. "I agree. I'll have to write my number down for you later."

Delilah smiled warmly, before the group turned to gather the two remaining items on the list. 

Admittedly, Delilah was fond of the idea herself. She was very fond of both Weston and his company, and would love to keep in touch rather then rely on chance. However, she couldn't help the slight anxiousness gnawing on her insides. If her husband found out, she knew there'd be trouble. Marvin was a possessive man, who preferred top keep his prized possessions under lock and key. He'd done the same with her at first, but after the small amount of trust she managed top win with the man, she was finally once again allowed to roam the streets and visit friends and family, even if that time was as well, restricted alike all of her other activities. She just hoped her ability to go out wouldn't be stripped from her if he ever found out she had befriended another man. It was a dangerous gamble, but after all her time spent with Weston, it was one she was willing to take. 

As Weston said he would, he'd found a pencil and piece of paper from his journal which he quite conveniently always kept on him and written down his own landline number, in which Delilah returned the favour. After ruffling both Edward's and Daniel's hair and warmly bidding Weston goodbye, she'd split ways with the boys and left to return home as three o'clock was approaching- the time she was expected to return home whenever she went out for the day alone. 

Immediately as she returned home, she made sure to safely hide away Weston's number in her undergarment draw, in which she desperately hoped her husband didn't go through, before abruptly falling back on her impeccably made bed, in which she had her maid, Bethany to thank. Giddily, she smiled as she thought of Weston and his nephews. She dan't spent all that long with him that afternoon, but each encounter left her with increasing content swelling in her chest, as if being in Weston's presence rejuvenated her, leaving her feeling fresher, lighter. She truly enjoyed his company, and how she hoped he felt the same. 


	9. Chapter 9

It was the first Saturday of the month. It would have been alike any other Saturday had it not been the dedicated date night between you and your husband. It was a sweet gesture, knowing that the man went out of his way to spend time with Delilah. She had to give her husband that, he certainly knew how to keep a woman swept off her feet.   
Though the previous thrill and romance of outings such as those had faded, now that she had become the brunt of his worst attributes. Now 'dates' felt more like nerve wrecking business meetings with someone a breath away from snapping. One wrong move, one wrong word, it would mean serious trouble for her.   
Delilah had come to dread the company of her husband. 

There was a time when she was saddened by the fact when she returned to bed she'd slip under the sheets alone. Now she was relieved. 

Sitting across from her was a sharped jawed and icy eyed male, a handsome face that couldn't hide all of the ugliness inside that swirled in his pale blue eyes. The colour of his eyes had always intrigued Delilah. They'd always felt particularly dull, despite the colour blue's tendency to stick out. From the moment Delilah had met the eyes of that particular man she knew to stay far, far away.   
It appears she must of had some sort of karmic debt, because no matter how far she ran he seemed to catch up with her. 

A polite, and utterly insincere smile sat at her lips as Marvin recounted his day, hands brushing through the air for dramatic effect. The two sat at a dark circular table, topped with smooth red silk table cloths and fine white pottery shaped into plates and bowls.   
Delilah wasn't entirely sure of the name of the place, but she was a aware that it was a fine Italian restaurant, highly recommended by some of the other upper-class folk if the talk wandering around the neighbourhood was correct. 

Delilah was startled out of her thoughts when she realised Marvin had finished talking about himself, and had instead asked her a question. She paused, meeting her husband's dull eyes as they penetrated through her as he sat with his chin resting on the back of his hands. She could help but tense as his words finally registered.

"So, now that I've gotten my day out of the way, tell me what you've been up to," a certain emotion glinted in his eyes, something that threatened to send a shiver crawling down Delilah's spine, one that she desperately didn't care to find out. "I've been quite busy, I've certainly missed out a lot on the kinds of activities you've gotten up to."

There was a certain edge to his tone that while subtle, and near unnoticeable to the untrained ear, Delilah had learnt to recognise that she was in trouble. She could already feel her eyes already watering as a menacing smirk pulled at Marvin's lips, sucking in a breath of air, she kept her head held up in the air. She wasn't entirely sure what she had done this time, but she knew that whatever it is, she wouldn't be looking forward to coming home tonight.

"Well?" He pressed.

Delilah clenched her hands, gripping onto the material of her dress from where they politely sat on her lap. "Oh, you know, just the usual..." She replied, refusing to drop her gaze from her husbands and focusing on making sure her voice didn't waver.

Marvin quirked an eyebrow at her, "That's it? So these rumours I've been hearing about you fraternizing with some other male are all false?"

Delilah tensed. She couldn't help the way her eyes widened as breath caught in her throat. He knew?! She sat straighter in her seat, hands trembling. Oh god, he knew. He _knew._

Delilah noticed the way her husband's body shook with laughter, his eyes glinting with sinister amusement. She felt her skin crawl.  
He enjoyed this. He enjoyed seeing her terrified, revealed in her fear of him, in the way she trembled at menace in his eyes.   
He got off having her be forced to submit to him out of her own fear and desperation. 

She gritted her teeth. There was nothing she could do about it either. 

Despite feeling the temptation to simply squeeze her eyes close, pray that this was all some warped, twisted nightmare, but she knew there was no hiding from reality, no matter how much she wished too. So instead, she kept her eyes pinned to his, her heart pulsing in her throat. "...He's just someone i've bumped into a few times, no one else."

Marvin's eyes narrowed, "What's his name?" he spoke coolly.

Ice ran through Delilah's veins, panic bubbling in her chest. She couldn't tell him about Weston, if she did it would surely mean his death. Delilah knew it wasn't wise to keep secrets from her husband, one way or another he always seemed to find out about them, and it only ended up with her skin an extra shade darker then it would have otherwise been.   
This time though, self preservation wasn't the main factor here. No, Delilah refused to allow her new friend to be hurt, even if her own well being was at stake. Firmly, Delilah forced herself to reply just as coolly and calmly as Marvin, "I wouldn't know. As i said, we'd merely bumped into each other a few times- pure coincidence, really. I never bothered to get him name."

Delilah paused, and waited. She hardly flinched as anger sparked in her husband's eyes.

Marvin's jaw clenched as he sat straighter in his seat, "You dare lie to me?" He spat, eyes burning with fury. Delilah sunk into her seat, this time allowing her eyes to clench closed. She didn't want to be here right now. She wanted to be anywhere but here. In her mother's arms, by her sisters side or, perhaps by the very man that was getting her into this trouble. Because despite the current consequences, Delilah found a sense of security with him. If only he were here, she could hide behind him and cling to the back of his spotless white button up, she was sure he'd march straight forward into danger to protect her.   
That was simply the kind of man he was.   
The kind of man Delilah found herself in awe with.

"You fucking bitch," this time Delilah flinched, eyes flickering over to the floor beside her as her husband hushed harsh words at her. "You think you could play me a fool?" He sneered, his large hands curling into fists as he eyed Delilah in disgust.   
Shooting up in his seat, he glared over at her. Delilah felt herself sink further into her seat. She knew what came next. 

Marvin marched up to her, his hands curling around her forearm and dragged her up from her seat. Biting her tongue till the taste of metal flooded her taste buds, she couldn't muffle the wince that slipped from her lips. The rest of the restaurant glanced up from their meals, but no one dared stop him. They were all well aware of who he was, and no one was suicidal enough to cross him, especially when he was evidently as enraged as current.   
Instead, everyone merely looked on in sympathy and disturbed empathy as Delilah was half dragged by the man twice her size out of the doors of the restaurant, some not even having it in them to watch, and instead merely diverting their gazes. Delilah was sure the incident had ruined all of their nights, but with the fear hammering in her chest and the burning liquid swelling from her eyes and burning her cheeks provided too great a distraction to feel any guilt or embarrassment.   
She was a grown woman for gods sake, being dragged behind Marvin like a naughty child being dragged home to be spanked. 

Delilah hardly registered being tossed into the back seat of Marvin's own private car as he marched around to the drivers seat, scowling the entire way. Delilah didn't bother to push herself up from where she laid sprawled across the leather seats, instead burying her face in the smooth black material, body shaking as she silently sobbed. 

Her heart raced a million miles an hour in her chest until her head throbbed. She was utterly terrified. She could remember countless times feeling that very same emotion, but being utterly unable to do anything but limply wait hopelessly.   
There was no-one there to save her. No prince in shining armour. Those were all wishful fantasies, day dreams serving as a way to cope with reality. Even the idea of having Weston come to save her was another idle fantasy.

Delilah squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to have to think about it, didn't want to have to listen to the profanities and whole-hearted threats her husband promised as he drove her back 'home', away from public eye where he could do as he liked with her. 

Overwhelmed by her own thoughts, she jolted in surprised as she was grabbed by the collar of her dress and yanked back out of the car. She stumbled, toppling over backwards, the tender flesh of the back of her legs stinging as they scraped across the pavement of the driveway. Delilah yelped, cheeks flushed bright red and eyes swollen as tears burnt down her cheeks.   
She shook her head desperately as Marvin slammed her door closed and turned to approach her, smoldering coals seething in his eyes. 

"No no pleas-" She cried as he outstretched for her, yanking her back up to her feet and dragging her forward. She staggered, loosing one of her heels in the process as she was forced to hurry quicker then her legs could allow her to move. Delilah yelped, sobbing harder as she was thrown through the front door, toppling back over again on the smooth polish wooden floors, knocking over one of the decorative flower pots on the bench beside her, barley registering the loud shattering as it broke into a million pieces beside her, the ends of her dress dampening with split water as flowers spread across the floor. 

Delilah jumped as the front door slammed shut, barely making out the movement of her husband marching towards her from her vision blurred with tears.   
Large fingers, firm and harsh gripped her chin until she winced, forcing her to look up at him despite her resistance as he crouched down in front of her. 

"I can't believe you," he shook his head, "Lying to _me._ " He looked away for a second, his grip on her chin strengthening and forcing more tears to fall from her eyes. "You dump fucking bitch. You just don't learn!" His hand slipped up her face until he gripped her by the entire bottom half of her face, fingers squeezing until the fingers pressing into her cheekbones sent a sharp ache jittering through her bones. "What are you? Fucking brainless? Come on Delilah! I know you're fucking smarter then that! Start acting your age for gods sake! You're a grown fucking woman! Act like one! This pitiful habit of lying makes you look a child!" 

Scoffing, he forced her face forward, until their faces were just a breath away. His hot breath sent painful shudders scratching down her spine as she was forced to stare desperately up into his sinister gaze.   
"Heh, a child," he huffed a apathetic laugh, "I suppose if you wish to behave like one, i'll just have to treat you as on."

Marvin's grip on Delilah disappeared as he stood back up as Delilah frantically shook her head, choking out pleads throughout her tears.   
The stone-hearted man merely looked down at her as her small frame shook grimly, swiftly undoing the belt wrapped around his waste, before folding it in half. 

Delilah pressed her palms against the floor, frantically trying to crawl away from her abuser, even as the shards of pottery dug into the tender flesh of her hands she screamed and kicked as he approached, twisting until she was on her hands and knees in attempts to desperately crawl away.   
She yelped, begs slipping from her lips as a hand gripped around her leg and dragged her back through the mixture of spilled water and shards of pottery that slit at her knees and legs. She trashed in his grip as he pulled her towards her, sobbing as another hand gripped at the material of her dress and tore through it until it was completely stolen from her body.   
The cold air hit her now exposed lower half and she cried in utter humiliation. He really was going to treat her like a child? Embarrass her by showing her arse to the world and give her a belting. 

As soon as the harsh bite of leather slapped across the sensitive flesh of her backside she bit desperately into her lip, refusing to let the screams that her abuser hoped for escape.  
After the third lashing, her backside already raw and burning, the ache creeping up through her bones until until here entire pelvic area stung in pain with every lashing the cries finally burst from her lips.

Delilah wasn't sure at what point she'd become limp across the floor, resigned as Marvin violently bashed her with a belt. Either way, she was thankful for it as black spots began to spot in her vision, the aching of her backside feeling distant as she slowly slipped from reality. She called for it, ushering it's effects along, craving for the release as the fear hammering in her chest was soon replaced by utter numbness as her eyes finally fluttered closed. 

She hated this. 

Someone, anyone. Please. Just come and save her.

A deep, mind warping sadness tugged at her very soul and sunk unbearably heavy in her stomach. She truly had no one. Her family was helpless to him, any friends that she may of had was powerless against him.   
There was nothing anyone could do.

If only she knew someone who could stop him. Someone who could get rid of him one way or another for good. If only....

Weston. 


	10. Chapter 10

Weston.

When Delilah awoke, the house was silent, the halls dim as early morning light peered in through the curtains.   
She shifted uncomfortably, pain spiking through her limbs before once again settling in her bones as she winced.   
Tears once again burnt at her eyes, quickly threatening to spill. 

Her dress clung to her damp body as she forced herself to her feet slowly, each movement agonizing and sending aches rippling through her bones. She stumbled as she finally reached her feet, using the wall to catch herself before she could slip to the floor once again.

Her breaths came out ragged, and uneven, as she eyed the dried blood on her hands and arms from where shards of pottery had nicked her. She stood for a few moments, merely eyeing her injuries as recounts of the night before burnt into her mind, new waves of uncontrollable emotions sown into each phantom feeling of pain biting at her backside from the trauma that had been inflicted upon her.   
She shook, her entirely body trembling as a deep, heart aching sob brokenly tore from Delilah's mouth. 

She quickly found the strength needed to support herself stolen from her, as her legs collapsed beneath her, head hanging and burying itself into her hands as it too no longer could sustain its own weight.  
There, no further then a few feet from the front door and surrounded by shattered pottery, now wilting daffodils and the remainders of water of which hadn't soaked into her ruined dress she wailed. 

She wailed over the loss of her previous life. Wailed over the nostalgia of happier days. Wailed over at the humiliation of having her dress torn from her and being belted like a child. Wailed over the pain that settled under her skin. Wailed over every slight inconvenience or tragedy that she had lived through.   
All of it, it was simply too much. It weighed on her until she felt herself suffocating. And there was nothing she could do about the sadness that weighed at her limbs.

_No such thing as coincidence missy, the good Lord has a plan for us all_

The words rung loudly in her head. 

She knew somebody that could help.

Seconds, or minutes, or maybe even longer had passed, Delilah wasn't sure, but the sobbing had finally ceased. Her tears had run dry and her eyes refused to leak anymore. Shakily, she once again pushed herself to her feet.  
Her body wobbled, but this time she refused to let herself fall. 

Using the wall as support she stumbled further into the house. She knew what she needed to do. Where she needed to go. Who see needed to see. But first, as much as she hated that it was a priority, she had to change.   
Glancing down at what remained of her dress, her entire lower half was bare, except for her undergarments. It was humiliating, each time she glanced down and recalled what had happened. Utterly hopeless under his strength. Powerless. 

She reached her room, and anxiety swelled in her chest, gripping in her limbs like ice. She wasn't sure if Marvin was still inside, but either way she had no choice.  
She pushed forwards, slowly turning the knob of the door and silently pushing it open. 

Her body relaxed as the breath she hadn't realised she was holding escaped passed her lips. 

He wasn't here.

She only paused for a moment to relish in her luck, before her eyes quickly darted around the room to find something quick and easy to pull on. Swiftly she rushed over to her wardrobe, pulling out the first dress she saw and hastily peeling off the damp dress that clung to her curves before hurriedly pulling on over the new one.   
She slipped on the first pair of shoes on the way out, quickly racing to the front door with purpose in her step as she finally excited the house.

She had to go find Weston. She had to go down to that station.   
It wasn't anywhere close, but she had no other option. 

Her entire body racked with pain with each painstaking movement but she pushed forward. Her eyes stung but no tears formed, she'd spilled so many previously there were no longer any left to spill. 

She had hit the street, and she'd received gasped and dirty looks alike as others eyed her damp, tousled hair and the purples and dried reds that littered her skin. She paid them no heed, keeping her head up as she marched forward.  
She only had one thing on her mind, and that was reaching Weston as quickly as she could.

Word spread quickly in this city, and if someone who knew Marvin caught sight of her, she'd be in even further trouble. Fear hammered in her chest at the thought.   
If last night was bad- what exactly would he do if he got a hold of her again?

She used that fear to keep her moving forward.

She marched the streets until her feet wobbled beneath her, but she refused to give up. She couldn't give up because who'd know what would happen to her if one of Marvin's men got to her before she could get to Weston?  
She had to keep moving forwards, because with Weston, she'd be safe.

For the first time in what felt like forever, hope bubbled in her chest. 

With Weston- she'd _finally_ be safe. Something that not even her own childhood home could provide. 

A grin, wide and bittersweet as her chest swelled with hope, the most joyous kind. The warmth of safety, oh how she longed for it. Her skin craved the warm embrace of it as she longed to simply fall into Weston's strong embrace, be supported by arms in which she'd know to be both strong and well-intentioned. 

Before she could really register it, Delilah was marching into the City Central's Police station, loosing one of her heels in the process but never faltering to go back at retrieve it, simply limping unevenly inside undeterred. She was sure they'd kick her out, but if Weston was honest, as Delilah had no doubt he was, she'd merely have to announce she was a friend of his and they'd let her in.   
She hoped, oh so desperately that they would let her in.

She marched up to the front desk, the receptionist dressed in a pretty frilly blue dress and blonde hair done neatly up in a bun looked up at her in shock.   
"...Hello, maim, How can i assist you?" She inquired, running her eyes up and down Delilah in a mixture of shock and concern, "Are you here to report and incident?"

Delilah shook her head, "No- well yes, but not really," she sighed in frustration at her own inability to find proper words. "I'm here to see Mr. Greyson," she spoke confidently after a moment, her gaze firm and assuring as it met the blonde woman's own eyes, "He's a friend of mine."

With both eyebrows raised, the receptionist looked up at Delilah doubtfully, before hesitantly picking up the dialphone on he desk to her ear, "Oh...kay..... Allow me to give Mr. Greyson a quick call just to confirm," she muttered, using her finger to dial in the number, "What was your name again?"

"Delilah."

"Delilah who?"

"....Delilah Clementine."

The receptionist nodded before leaning her ear against the phone's speaker once again. Not quite a moment later she began to speak into the phone, quietly enough so that Delilah couldn't overhear as she through glances her way. A moment later and she gently dropped the phone back onto the rest of the machine, before a sigh slipped past her lips.

"Alright, Mr. Greyson will see you know," she bent forward in her chair, to point over to the hallway on the left, "Just go down that way, you'll walk through all the open offices, and to the very end you'll get to the private ones. Mr. Greyson will have his name on his door."

Delilah bobbed her head, swiftly spinning on her heel to hurry to Weston. All of this attention, everything from the past day was just getting so exhausting. She just wished to hide away from everyone's prying eyes, and she knew she'd find that luxury with Weston, in his office with no one else to give her strange looks.

Delilah marched through the open office room, police and other staff alike glancing up from their desks to shoot her odd looks as she past. She knew her current state was quite rough, but she took comfort in knowing that she wouldn't be receiving those kinds of looks from Weston.

No, he was far too much of a gentlemen. He wouldn't look over at her in pity or disgust. No, his dark eyes, so eerily similar to her own would swell with concern.   
She couldn't help the ghost of a grin beginning to pull at her lips. Eagerness to simply find Weston swelled in her chest, urging her forward with increasing desperation.

No sooner had her eyes landing on the door with 'Mr Greyson' engraved in gold. Gleefully she marched up to the door, swinging her fist up and eagerly knocking. Only seconds later and the door swung open. 

It was then, and only then that Delilah finally allowed herself to collapse. She fell forward, straight into the strong and sturdy chest of the man she'd come to put her faith and trust into. Two strong arms quickly wrapped around her, swinging the door closed as he hurriedly brought Delilah over to one of the seats as she clung to him, desperately burying her head into his chest. 

An impossibly wide, toothy grin sat stubbornly at her lips, unwavering as her arms refused to let go of him.

Delilah found herself sitting in the leather seat across from Weston's desk, the very same man forced to crouch as she continued to pull him close, with no intention of letting him go just yet.   
Weston's hand found Delilah's back, a tenderly rubbed circles into her skin through the material of her dress. 

"Delilah?" He questioned, and Delilah's heart ached at the concern in his voice that she'd already knew would be here. How incredibly lucky she must have been to have met a man as caring and gentle yet strong and righteous as he. "Come on now Delilah, what happened? Did something happen to you? Did _someone_ do something to you?"

Delilah didn't pull away just yet, rather just stayed silent in Weston's embrace, sinking forward into his chest and savouring his warmth. It was just as she had hoped it would be, strong and warm as his arms curled protectively around her, even if she was the one that kept them there. Weston hadn't made a move to pull away, simply allow his chin to sit in the crook of her neck with his hand rubbing circles in her back and the other gripping reassuringly on her. 

"Delilah?" Weston whispered once again, his tone having since softened. "Please tell me what has happened. I need to know you're alright."

Hesitantly, Delilah pulled away from Weston. At first her gaze lingered at her lap, her hair hiding her face, but slowly she lifted it to look Weston in the eye, her hair snow hanging at the sides of her face and revealing everything to be seen.

Delilah didn't miss the way Weston's eyes widened in surprise as soon as the light of the room hit her face. Slowly, his hand crept out towards Delilah's face, and she flinched as they brushed against her chin.  
Weston paused, his eyes flickering back up to her own, but after having received no further discouragement, continued, until his usually strong fingers curled gently across her chin while Delilah all the meanwhile studied his eyes, that now swirled with sadness and hurt, as if the bruises that she didn't need to see lining her jaw to know they were there were his own. 

"...Who did this to you?" He whispered, eyes tracing the blues and purples that tainted the usually fair colour that painted her skin. His eyes flickered back up to Delilah's suddenly firmer, "Was this that friend of yours? The one that you said forced himself on you that first night we met?"

Delilah tensed in surprised. She'd completely forgotten about that incident. Somewhat sheepishly, she shook her head. "No... I...." she trailed off, her eyes once again locking with Weston's that swirled with determination and some other emotion indistinguishable to her. "...It was my husband," she muttered a moment later.

Weston jolted from where he crouched in front of her, eyes wide as his hand dropped back to his side. "...Your, _husband,_ did this too you?" He confirmed.

Hesitantly, she nodded.

The two fell silent, as Delilah awkwardly stared down at her hands and Weston's lips flattened into a straight line, both protectiveness and anger bubbling in his chest.   
Weston was never an angry man, but he couldn't help the fierceness that swelled within him as he stared over at the little lady in front of him, the little lady that also happened to have become a dear friend of his.

A moment later, Weston stood up, before shifting to sit on the edge of his desk as his arms moved to settle crossed over his chest. Delilah's head perked at the sudden movement, watching Weston curiously as he moved.

"Who is he?" Weston questioned suddenly.

Delilah gave Weston a curious look.

"Your husband- what is his name?" He clarified. Anger still burnt in his eyes, but the way he spoke to Delilah was smooth and calm, completely unlike Marvin's. He didn't speak down to her, he spoke to her both with respect and understanding. Delilah felt compelled to tell him everything. But could he honestly help her? "Your husband- was he the one that gave you that bruise you first showed me? Does he touch you like that often?"

Delilah took a moment, before hesitantly nodding. "My husband he is... well, i'm sure you would have heard of him..." She went on to say, her gaze now searching the floor as Weston tilted his head curiously.

"Yes well, i know many people around the city. Especially the wealthier families your side of town."

Delilah bit her lip, shaking her head, "No i... i didn't mean it like that. I'd be surprised if i met someone who didn't know who he was."

Weston's eyebrows furrowed, "Is he famous? You don't got to worry about that. I've dealt with the newspapers many times before. Bigshot or not- he's not getting away with this."

Gritting her teeth, Delilah heaved a sigh. She didn't want to say it, she was afraid of the words that would slip from her lips. Weston was an amazing guy, but how would he look at her when he found out she was the wife of one of the men that he worked night and day to put away? "Marvin De Luca," the words rolled from her tongue before she could stop herself.

Weston tensed, the hands at his chest dropping to rest beside him, curling around the edge of the desk. "What? What exactly about Marvin De Luca? Do you know something?"

Delilah shook her head, "No I-" She sighed in exasperation, "I'm Marvin De Luca's Wife!" She exclaimed.

The room fell silent.

The two stared over at each other, Delilah heaving as Weston sat tensely on the edge of his desk with wide eyes.  
Nothing was said, and the minutes of silence dragged on. A million thoughts buzzed through Weston's head, and Delilah had the privilege of watching each of his expressions as they morphed into another. 

"...Your.... _you_....are Marvin De Luca's wife?" Weston finally manged to usher, "Marvin De Luca- Mob boss Marvin De Luca?" He inquired incredulously. 

A moment later, Delilah nodded, confirming Weston's thoughts.

Weston stared down at her, a flurry of emotions mixing and warping in his gut. He didn't know how to feel about this, but there was one thing he was sure of, Mob boss or not, he was going to take this guy down.

Weston meet Delilah's matching eyes in disbelief. He couldn't believe it. The missing piece he'd needed all along- right here, in front of him. When they first met he'd suspected they could be connected in someway- but Marvin De Luca's _wife?_

Despite the fact he should be overjoyed with this turn of events, that may mean the solving of the case he'd slaved away on for so long now, he couldn't ignore the uncomfortable churning in his gut at the thought of Delilah being anywhere near that man. The thought revolted him. To think he'd put his filthy hands on such a brilliant, lovely lady. He hated the idea. 

A few beats of silence passed, before a sigh slipped past his lips. He closed his eyes for a brief second, opening them to find Delilah still sitting there, beaten and bruised and exhausted.   
Worry twisted in his gut as he pushed himself off his desk.

"Alright. We'll talk more about this later," he responded calmly, already pulling off his coat to throw over Delilah, who he'd noticed was slightly damp when he was caught up embracing her. Delilah tensed as the warm material embraced her, before sighing and sinking further into it, her hands desperately pulling it closer as her eyelids tiredly drooped. 

"What now?" She yawned.

Weston paused, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at her. "For now, you can come stay at my place." Delilah jolted, looking up at him in surprise. "You're hurt and exhausted. You need a warm bath and somewhere safe to sleep," Weston paused once again, before dropping to once again crouch in front of Delilah. His eyes locked with hers, as he stared over at her seriously, one of his hands reaching out to rest on her shoulder. "You don't have to be worried anymore Delilah, I promise from now on, I won't let anything hurt you."

Delilah stared over at Weston. She didn't know what to say, but the shaky smile wavering at her lips spoke for her. 

She sighed as her eyes closed, content swelling in her chest.

This man, he'd just reminded her what hope was. 


	11. Chapter 11

Weston's home was moderate in size, but it hardly took away from its warmth and liveliness, though perhaps it was knowing it was Weston's that made it feel that way. Weston, quite the gentleman, but even more so the past day had been especially hospitable.   
As soon as the two arrived at his place he was quick to find her a spare change of his sisters clothes and show her the way to the bathroom, announcing to her that she could take as long as she liked before going to tend to the guest room where she would be staying. 

Taking full advantage of the offer, she'd proceeded to run herself a hot bath and remain there for what felt like a good hour. The ends of her fingers and toes came out wrinkly by the time she was finished, but wrapping one of the fluffy white towels- not quite as luxurious as the ones she had at home, but felt even more so like heaven on her skin purely because they had never been used by Marvin compelled a deep, satisfying sigh from her.   
The bath in which she'd bathed in was considerably smaller then her own, in fact the entire bathroom was, yet she found she easily preferred this one over her own. It felt... cleaner, even though it evidently wasn't as she brushed a finger through some dusk that had started to collect on the side of the counter. Simply the atmosphere in the house was so much lighter and relieving then at home, and she felt herself smiling pleasantly at herself in the mirror, despite the bruises licking at her chin. 

She was completely relaxed, however short lived it may have been, but she enjoyed it with every fibre of her being for the meantime. It felt like an occurrence she hardly experience anymore.   
Drying herself off she'd dressed in the light and comfortable sundress Weston had given her, which was far less restricting then the other dresses her husband expected her to wear constantly. While Delilah didn't mind wearing a revealing dress from time to time and getting dolled up to go with it, especially to go on stage, it was exhausting being expected to look stage-ready constantly. Marvin was hardly home to appreciate the efforts she went to anyway, even if those efforts were merely expected of her.   
She twirled in the mirror, the ends of her pale blue dress licking her lower calves and she'd chirped to herself as she beamed at herself in the mirror. 

Oh heavens, what entity had blessed her with meeting Weston? It felt too good to be true. Perhaps it was fated after all.

....

Delilah was still unsure about the idea, but for someone like Weston to be introduced into her life.. someone that reminded her how to be happy, how to have hope, who offered her a solution to her biggest burden..   
She felt incredibly lucky to have a friend like him.

Friend. 

A faint frown tugged at the edges of her lips.

The word 'friend' didn't quite feel right....

She'd left the bathroom bashfully, damp hair clinging to the sides of her face and completely barefoot. She'd chosen simply not to put her hells back on- or rather heel, as she'd lost the other outside the police station and had never bothered to retrieve it. Oh how she now regretted it. Weston wasn't the type to think anything of it she was sure, but the causality that it implied embarrassed her- this was her first time having visited his place after all! A man's place of all places! She was sure that Weston would not try anything, especially since she was sure he had no such feelings for her, nor was he a man to be controlled by his lust, but nonetheless Delilah felt the pressure to remain on her best behaviour in front of him, not wanting to embarrass herself somehow in front of him. 

Delilah had quickly found Weston, who'd given her a once over and chuckled, commenting that she had looked lovely which had Delilah bashfully smiling. Marvin would ridicule her for daring to wear something so informal and cheap. She was then shown her room, which was tiny in comparison at the one back at Marvin's house, but it felt like home already.   
There was the slight scent like pine in the air as she ran her eyes over the room that was brightly lit by many open windows lined with drawn back creme curtains. She took in the room with a small, but content smile on her lips. 

Weston seemed pleased with the reaction, commenting that it was hardly anything like her own house but he hoped it was to her liking. She'd chuckled and said it was perfect.  
Afterwards Weston had insisted she'd go to bed, and he'd wake her for dinner. At first she'd refused, surprised he'd ever offer such a thing, insisted that it was fine and that she could cook dinner and that it was the least she could do (she was also dumb-founded at the thought of a man cooking, but in the end it proved to be a pleasant surprise). Much to her even further surprise, he'd completely brushed her off, simply telling her that she needed her rest, and assured her that he was completely capable in the kitchen, and even enjoyed cooking and that she needn't worry. 

Hesitantly, she'd relented. Weston had informed her to come get him if she ever needed anything, before turning to leave and bidding her a good sleep. She'd watched him walk away with slightly warm cheeks. She felt rather pampered, like a princess. While she was commonly treated with luxury back at Marvin's house, all those who'd treated her that way were paid to do so, it was never willingly done by someone out of the kindness of their heart- of a man no less. Even as a child, she'd ben expected to keep up with the household chores and assist with dinner, Delilah didn't think she could she recalled a single day where she was properly pampered. Perhaps it was due to the fact they were living in a lower-middle class home and hardly had the money for such luxuries, but Weston was still only middle-class and put in the effort, even if it would just be for one day.   
Once again, her grin returned full force, giddiness bubbling in her chest. 

She'd gone to beed just as requested, and found her own exhaustion quickly crept up on her, even after she had been woken for dinner, where she made small, but pleasant conversation with Weston, who was considerate enough to leave out comment of the day's earlier conversation for another time, she'd still found room to sleep even more, and dreamt the night away, some of the best nights sleep she'd had in an eternity. 

It was after all of that that she found herself here. Sitting across from Weston on one of the lounges rather then one of the chairs at the dining table as he'd insisted she'd be more comfortable there. Patiently, he sat leaning back in his own seat, arms laxly crossed over his chest with an encouraging smile sitting at his face. 

"You know, Delilah, i hate to bring up the topic, but you know it is necessary," he smiled somewhat sadly. He hated to make her uncomfortable, but it was important he found out as much as possible to bring Marvin down, both for the safety for the general public, but Delilah too. He'd promised to never allow harm to come to her again, and he intended on keeping that promise.

Delilah sighed, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and staring down thoughtfully at her hands. "Where to i start..." she ushered.

"Anywhere, we'll work our way from there."

Delilah nodded before finally glancing up to meet Weston's eyes. "Marvin De Luca is my husband," she started confidently, "A mobster, Don of the mafia family that's been all through the newspapers lately. He's... well, you are aware of how he treated me..." She trailed off, sucking a deep breath as she stared down at the floor, ashamed for whatever strange reason. Weston remained silent, allowing her to take her own time. "He found out about you," Delilah noted Weston stiffening in surprise from where he sat, "I refused to give his your name, you needn't worry," she reassured, "He had questioned me on the topic of spending time in the company of another man, and i'd simply told him i'd merely coincidently ran into you a few times- nothing more. However he didn't believe me when i told him i was privy of your name and he..." Weston's hands gripped at the ends of his armrest, "Well... you know what he did..." she whispered, the volume in her voice suddenly stolen from her. 

She gripped her arms and stared down at her lap, the phantom pains aching across her body cause enough to encourage burning tears to pool at her eyes that she was too stubborn to let spill. She sucked in a sharp breath. She had to be strong, she could get through this, she reassured herself, holding her chin up high to meet Weston's gaze, which she noted with shock was swirling with hurt in those dark pools of his, as if it pained him to see her hurting.

And it did.

"I... What else do you need to know?" She sniffled, to which Weston shook his head.

"It's alright, i know his address, i'll handle everything."

Delilah suddenly perked, "You'll finally take him down?"

Weston nodded, a slight grin at his lips. "Of course. However, the situation isn't quite ideal, i'd have preferred to find out more and take down the rest of the syndicate along with him and i fear if we go straight in to arrest him now the evidence we need will be destroyed, but i suppose it's a necessary sacrifice.

Delilah paused with furrowed brows as eyes pierced through her. An idea had occurred to her, one that she hated, but she thought necessary. She straightened, clenching her dress anxiously. The words burnt into her mind, and she knew she had to say them, but did she have the bravery to do so?  
She squeezed her eyes closed until they hurt, holding her breath as her heart pounded rapidly in her chest. It was an awful idea- but what other option did she have? She had to take down her husband, and if it meant helping Weston, the man she owed everything to, then she'd help him take Marvin's entire crime syndicate down too. For the greater good- even if it risked her own safety.

In a momentary second of bravery, the words suddenly rolled from her tongue. She didn't know if she felt relieved or fearful now that they were out in the air. "I could go back," she blurted, much to Weston's surprise as he stiffened, "He won't ever suspect anything. I could be in and out and gather all the evidence you need-"

"-no."

Delilah paused, looking up at Weston who stared at her seriously. 

"You are not going back. That's final."

Delilah was surprisingly not as relieved as she thought she would be to hear that. 

"Weston," she replied back just as seriously, "I have to! What choice do we have?" She pleaded,

Weston stubbornly shook his head, "Not a chance in hell Delilah. I will not put your safety or your life at risk."

Delilah subconsciously shifted forward in her seat, clasping her hands with tears pooling at her eyes. "Weston, please," she begged, "I hate to do this but you _know_ i have to."

Weston faltered the stubbornness held firmly in his eyes fading into what appeared to be confliction. Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his hair, "i- No, Delilah- there _has_ to be another way, i won't let you get hurt again-"

"Weston," Delilah choked out, " _Trust_ me. I hate this as much as you do, but this is the only way to get the evidence you need."

Weston fell silent, helplessly staring over at Delilah. He felt so hopeless because he knew she was right. He knew that he needed that evidence if he ever hoped to make a real change around here. He could always take out Marvin, but that didn't get rid of all the workers, all the corrupt businesses and personnel, no they'd simply find someone else to work for, or simply replace the man. There was no simply cutting the head off the snake on this one. He had to systematically pull apart the entire crime syndicate bit by bit, arrest every last one of them until they were all behind bars.   
At the thought, something alike hope bubbled in his chest as he glanced over at Delilah, meeting her own dark eyes meaningfully. 

He hated to have her do this, loathed it with every fibre of his being. But maybe this was the solution. Maybe she would be the one to fix everything.   
He almost laughed. This entire time, she'd been the final puzzle piece to all of this. 

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime he felt something like hope. 

"....Alright."


	12. Chapter 12

Delilah took a deep breath. 

She was alone, for now. Weston had dropped her off down the street, and would be waiting there for her so they could make a quick getaway if it came down to that. Right now she found herself standing in the driveway of her ex-home. Delilah shivered. She couldn't believe she used to call the place home at all. 

She wasn't sure if Marvin was home or not, but she prayed that he was out. Surely he'd have noticed her absence the night before and no doubt would he be furious. Delilah didn't want to stick around long enough to find out what would happen if he got his hands on her. 

Squaring her shoulders, she strode forward, one foot in front of the other in feign confidence, just as she did on stage. She held her head high and displayed no fear. She could do this. Entering her home, she held her breath. She could do this, she reminded herself. 

Delilah noted that the previous mess from the incident the other day had been cleaned up, no doubt by her maid. A small, almost invisible grin quirked at her lips at the thought of her maid, Bethany. She quite appreciated the work Bethany had done for her. No doubt it was quite the stress inducing job, especially considering who her employer was. 

Delilah grimaced, not wasting any time to hurriedly enter the house, darting around silently in venture towards Marvin's office. So far the house was silent, but Delilah didn't miss the way many of the flower vases and other delicate items were missing. A frown tugged at her lips. Likely they were broken in one of Marvin's tantrums. Delilah imagined it must have been a lot of work for the maids, especially when they'd done such an impeccable job. If Delilah hadn't been living there she'd have never have picked up on the mess that was here previously. 

Reaching the stairs, Delilah quietly tip-toed upstairs. Glancing down either way and finding the coast to be clear she hastily picked up her pace as she headed down the way towards where she needed to go.  
Delilah had been in Marvin's office very few times, but knew that was exactly where the evidence she needed would be. While tempered and occasionally brash, Marvin was an organised man. All his transactions and receipts from business deals, information on the ties he had with other organisations, phone numbers and addresses, they could all be found there. 

Hyper-aware of her surroundings the entire time, she found Marvin's office. She paused, pressing up against the cool wooden door and moving to rest her ear against it, listening in for any kind of noise. Eyes squeezing closed she focused on any kind of sign that the room might not be empty, but to her relief the room was completely silent. 

With care she twisted the knob of the door, which Marvin never bothered to lock considering up until recently Delilah had never acted out against him. Pushing the door open, she was glad for that small bit of trust she built up with the man over the course of her marriage that now allowed for a great convenience. 

The room was dark, and rather stuffy. Scrunching her nose, Delilah searched for the light switch in the general direction she vaguely remembered it being. A few seconds later and the light flickered on, illuminating the decent sized room. A large desk sat square in the middle of the room, with books and selves lining the walls. Files were neatly stacked on his desk, and a few bottles of both full and empty fine wines and whiskey's sat on display beside them. 

The room had been adjusted a fair bit since Delilah had last been in this room, but she only spared a second to run her eyes over her surroundings. Quickly she head over to the cabinets and began pulling them open, desperately reaching in and pulling out everything she could manage, before dumping the files on the table to pick up when she went to leave. She repeated this process until she'd mostly cleared the cabinets. A large section of the desk was covered in files and Delilah frowned, trying to figure out how she could manage to carry everything. 

Nonetheless, she put that thought off for a second and instead turned around to look back at the cabinets. She'd pulled the files from them pretty carelessly, no doubt leaving certain bits and pieces behind. She hesitated in leaving them behind, afraid one of them would be important. With growing urgency to hurry up and gather everything she needed and leave, she threw each cabinet open again and pulled out everything she'd miss, throwing them on the desk behind her. 

She didn't bother shutting them once again when she turned on her heel, staring down at the mess on the table skeptically. Delilah liked to believe she was considerably stronger for her size then one would have thought, but even she knew that still wasn't saying much.   
Gritting her teeth, she stubbornly approached the desk, strategically piling the files in her arms. However she wasn't half way through when her arms began to get tired. She cursed silently at herself and her weak arms, but continued to pile as many files as she was capable of in her arms.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of the files Delilah simply couldn't manage, and if she were to get them back to Weston, she'd have to make a second trip. Silently, Delilah debated going through the files to look for the most important ones, but shook her head to herself.   
She didn't want to risk being here any longer then she had too. 

Without a second thought, with her arms tightly gripping the stack of files in her arms Delilah raced out of the room, considerably slower then she'd have liked, considering the extra-load she was hauling. 

Delilah had just reached the bottom of the stairs when her blood ran cold. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Frozen, for a moment Delilah was unable to do anything except stare directly in front of her with wide eyes, heart flaring widely in her chest as Marvin's familiar sharp face stood in the corner of her vision. Gritting her teeth, ever so slowly did she twist her head to face him, her body tensing painfully.

There, just a few metres to her left stood Marvin. Dressed in his white button up and suit-pants, Marvin heaved, face reddening in anger. Meeting his gaze Delilah wore she felt her heart stop in her chest.   
A lump formed in her throat and she felt like throwing up.

As if somebody pressed the play button, Delilah suddenly shot forwarded, making a run for it like her life depended it, and considering the lethal glint in Marvin's cold eyes- it probably did. 

Wincing as several of the files and other papers slipped from her hands, Delilah didn't turn back to try to retrieve them. Her legs burned as she forced herself to sprint faster then Delilah was sure she'd ever ran in her life. Her shoes slid across the polished floors, making it difficult to to make sharp turns as Marvin's heavy footsteps pounded against the floor. 

Pressing against a wall to help force herself around a corner, she blinked and jumped back a step as a plate came flying through the air, breaking into a thousand different pieces just a foot in front of her face. Small shards of pottery nicked her face, and Delilah gasped,resisting the urge to cup her bleeding cheeks as her hands were already full. 

Not wasting another second now that the distraction had allowed Marvin to catch up, Delilah jolted back into action, ignoring the stinging of the cuts sprinkled across her features. Despite knowing Marvin was still a few metres behind, Delilah still felt as if she could feel his breath on her neck, urging her forward as adrenaline, hot and unforgiving sizzled through her body until her limbs trembled. By now she was gritting her teeth to the point they ached, her head pounding with the desperate need to escape to the point where Marvin's profanities and curses were all but a blur to her. 

Time became a blur to her, warping and becoming inconceivable to her. It could have been seconds but easily felt like an eternity before Delilah found the front door, lunging forwards she struggled with the door handle, but just before Marvin's greedy hands could make a grab for her she was pushing forward once again, sprinting down the driveway. She stumbled on air, accidentally dropping another file. Delilah felt like crying over the loss, but was currently occupied running for her life from Marvin who had still hadn't relented. 

She wondered why he hadn't tried shooting at her yet, and she could only conclude that he must not have his gun on him. Delilah's heart lunched in her chest at her luck. If there was some other force influencing her life, then Delilah must have been in their good graces. 

Delilah almost cried out in joy as she ran down the street, spotting Weston who was sitting in his car, tensely gripping the steering wheel. Upon noticing Delilah, Weston was quick to throw himself out of his car, eyes quickly shifting behind her as he reached for his belt. 

Delilah collapsed on his chest as one of Weston's arms snaked around her waist to protectively hold her up against him, face twisted into something serious as the other hand held a gun in the air.  
Delilah jolted at the explosions of noises as bullets broke through the air, effectively discouraging Marvin from continuing the chase. 

Delilah twisted just enough to see Marvin duck into the bushes, quickly disappearing before he could be shot. Glancing back up at Weston, she could see the confliction twisting on his features over whether to run after him or to leave. Glancing down Weston's eyes locked with hers, and a sigh slipped past his lips, as he through his gun into the car- too hot to tuck back into his belt. Tenderly, he raised a thumb and stroked Delilah's cheek, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration.

"You're hurt," he mumbled tenderly.

Delilah, captivated in Weston's took a moment before nodding. "...It's alright," she whispered, quieter then she intended, "Let's head back to the station..."

Gritting his teeth, Weston's hard gaze softened, this time bringing up both his hands to cup the sizes of Delilah's face. Delilah winced as his fingers brushed over the small cuts, and Weston's face once again hardened. 

He nodded, dropping his hands and swiftly walking around the vehicle to hold open Delilah's door for her. She was almost surprised, a skeptical huff of a laugh escaping her lips. She shook her head as she quickly moved to take a seat in the passenger's seat as Weston shut the door behind her. She couldn't believe that he'd still take the time for such chivalrous things just for her despite the urgency of the current situation. 

As Weston's took off down the street, Delilah found her eyes wandering over to the man beside her as butterflies twisted in her stomach. 

Despite the blood drying on her face, Delilah couldn't help the relief that sat heavily in her chest. 

She knew now, that everything was going to be alright. The worst of it was over. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, before reopening them to find Weston had taken the moment to glance over at her, a small smile at his lips. 

Everything was going to turn out okay. And it was all because of him. 


	13. Chapter 13

All the information Delilah was able to retrieve was astounding. It was like the lotto for the station that day. 

Looking around the meeting room Weston was in was in a state of chaos. There was only a select few others that he'd trusted enough to help him go through all the evidence that Delilah had gathered, but nonetheless the group of five made quick work of everything there was to offer. 

Leaning against the edge of the table, Weston shook his head as he sat down yet another one of the files. He was disappointed. Not because their wasn't as much as he was hoping- but because there was more. He couldn't believe the pure amount of influence Marvin De Luca had over the city. No wonder it was so hard to pin the guy down. He was practically untouchable. Weston's lips thinned into a firm line as his eyebrows furrowed as he turned to open another. And according to Delilah this wasn't even all of the files, just a small portion she'd was able to lift, then managed to not drop when making her hasty getaway. 

Everything was happening quite quickly, and Weston swore he could still feel his blood rushing from the adrenaline coursing through his veins just a short while ago. He hated the idea of sending Delilah back in there, but it made sense that if she ran into her husband, that he'd probably wouldn't suspect anything. Of course Weston knew he'd no doubt be angry over her disappearance the night before, and Weston could help but squeeze his eyes shut and rest his head on the steering wheel as he refrained from thinking what might happen.   
However, it evidently backfired when he found himself watching Delilah running for her life down the side of the street, both arms hugging files to her chest with Marvin hot on his trails. 

He hated to act so brashly, attract so much attention to himself, because now Marvin knew the police was onto him, if he hadn't already figured it out from the files Delilah had stolen. It shortened his schedule dramatically, because now that Marvin knew that the police had against him, who knew what he'd do. He'd likely begin to withdraw the moles he had planted everywhere and send his employees into hiding. Instead of the raid he'd plan to do tomorrow, the police would be at his door in just another half an hour. 

Weston picked up his notebook which he had spread on the table beside him, quickly jotting down yet another name. Weston shook his head, a heavy sigh rolling from his lips as he looked down at the names with a tight jaw. Co-workers, superiors, other officers and investigators, some strangers, other's he'd consider to be friends. The names written down would be in cuffs by the end of the day, and if not, on the wanted list.   
Weston knew the justice system was crawling with corruption, he knew because the resource's that the station used just to put other's behind bars belonged behind bars themselves. He'd used one of them too. He'd never met Bobby or his crew and had only ever spoken to them over the phone, but their deep and cruel laughter played in his head and left a bad taste on his tongue. Those were the kind of people that lived off other people's expense. Heartless, greedy people with no regard to the genuinely hard working and honest. 

Weston flipped the file in his hand shut, inspecting the blank cover for just a moment.

These files however, all this evidence, that Delilah had put her life on the line to retrieve for him, these could change everything. They could finally get rid of the dirt wandering these halls. 

Now Weston wasn't naive, he knew this wouldn't solve everything. But he knew this was a step in the right direction. 

Speaking of Delilah, she was currently in the med bay, getting some rest. As soon as Weston had arrived to the police station from Marvin's house he'd personally escorted her to the room, seeing to it that the doctor patched up the little nicks on her face, and the few on her arms she'd failed to notice. Weston had made sure to stop in a few times, just to make sure she was alright and bring her something to eat and drink, but the last time he'd wandered in he'd found her sound asleep. 

He couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips, the raw sincerity that swirled in his eyes.   
He was so thankful to her. He owed the world to Delilah after everything she had done. With all of this, all of the evidence his workmates were diligently sorting through, real change could happen. 

Weston knew she didn't have to do any of this. She could have just let him arrest Marvin and let the evidence to take everyone else down be destroyed and leave it at that. But she didn't. She'd looked him square in the eye and told him she was going to get the evidence he needed, even after he'd turned her down. 

A sigh rolled from his lips, but this one differed from the last few that had escaped his lips while sorting through all of this mess. This sigh was a happy one. And it was evoked at the thought of Delilah. 

He was glad that the fates brought the two of them together. If that kind of thing even existed.

"Weston," Robbert, a middle aged man that had been working at the department since he was Weston's age and someone Weston had grown to respect, called for his attention. Weston shifted, pushing himself up from the desk and crossing his arms over his chest to raise an eyebrow curiously. "We've sorted through everything," Robbert glance back over at the table, dropping the file in his hand back onto the pile. "I do believe it's time we head out and put Mr. De Luca behind bars."

Weston perked, before nodding stiffly as he locked gazes with the man, before shifting his eyes to run them over all of his other coworkers. "Alright. Would somebody care to organise sending out a few officers out to arrest the name's i've collected in my journal over there," He gestured over to his notebook, still open on the table beside him, "I have some other business to attend to before we head out."

Joshua, a man closer to his own age nodded, his lips pulled into a firm line. It was an odd display, as Weston had long since adjusted to the ghost of a grin that always quirked at said man's lips. Weston didn't think he had ever seen Joshua this serious beforehand. "Of course. I can handle that for you. When will we be expecting to head out?"

"Twenty minutes," Robbert answered quickly before nodding over to the male on his left, Samuel, "I will be needing you to assist me rounding up a few officers for this takedown, yes?" 

Samuel, bobbed his head. "No complaints," he mused a bittersweet grin playing at his lips, "I'm simply eager to help get rid of the scum plaguing these streets," he hissed, which evoked a few chuckled and cheers of agreement. Robbert, the eldest of all five in the room naturally took on the roll of leader and was quick to assign everyone some sort of task to complete before they left, except for Weston, as he'd already explained he had something to do already. No sooner did everyone erupt from the room, only after Frank, the final officer in the room, had collected all the evidence in his arms and announced he'd find somewhere safe to store everything. 

All five speedily ran off in their own directions, hastily going to tend to whatever task they needed to do. However while the others left to the busier parts of the station, Weston left to the quieter part. Towards the med bay. He wasn't entirely sure why he was compelled to check on her for the third time since he'd first got back to the station, but he couldn't help the worry that twisted in his gut.   
He shook his head, knowing it was completely ridiculous. Of course, as Delilah's good- ....friend... he felt compelled to make sure she was okay, but a few cuts on her face and arms weren't life threatening. Weston didn't understand he's own need to constantly be by her side but the strange temptation was messing with his thoughts and getting to him. He just needed to see her one more time before he left. 

Entering the room he knew Delilah was in, he made extra care to be silent, just in case she was still asleep. As he suspected, still tucked under the cover's Weston had previously pulled over her was Delilah, eyes peacefully closes as she breathed evenly. Weston tucked his hands in his pockets and ran his eyes over the small cuts gracing her cheeks, wincing as small bursts of anger bubbled in his chest. 

It stung knowing Delilah had to be in that situation. Knowing the kinds of abuse she'd likely had to live through, the fear and desperation, and no doubt the tears that would have spilled, that Weston wasn't there to brush away. Once again, Weston shook his head. He wasn't sure why he was having these kinds of thoughts but over the course of the last twenty-four hours they'd gradually become more prominent. 

Weston tensed as Delilah suddenly shifted in her sleep, a deep exhale rolling from her tongue. He pause, before a peaceful smile quirked at his lips.   
He felt his chest clench at the sight. Weston was never the type to allow himself be tempted by a woman's looks, he was a man of the law after all, he had to learn to be resilient and controlled, however he couldn't deny just how stunning she appeared, even despite the dark bags resting under her eyes the small scabs sprinkled across her skin and across her nose. 

Weston groaned and dropped his head in his hands, rubbing his temples tenderly. He must be tired or something. He usually wasn't like this.

With one more glance at Delilah, Weston pried his feet from his spot, twisting around to leave. He had to prepare for the events to come. 

Wandering out of the med bay Weston patted the gun tucked in his belt, upon finding it he pulled it out, checking how full it was. He'd wasted a considerable amount of bullets back when he first shot at Marvin, and he'd have to bring quite a few extra loads for the gunfight that would likely go down if Marvin was still home.   
Weston had no doubt he would be, there was too much evidence behind those walls that he first had to destroy before he could think to abandon the place. Hence why everything was happening so quickly. They needed to get this done before Marvin could disappear again. 

The next twenty minutes went by in a blur. Everyone was racing around the place, and countless people previous sitting at their desks or sipping on their coffee on their break were now walking away in cuff's, some with scowls at their lips and others wide-eyed, in shock.   
Weston couldn't help but shake his head. Some had been working here for years, some even longer then Weston, even if Weston had only been working here for the past five or so years, back when he was twenty. 

Quicker then Weston could register he was suddenly in his car, racing off to Marvin's home with a small army of cars behind him. They were there in record speed, and noting the plethora of new cars piling outside Marvin's house, Weston was right in assuming the mobster had called in reinforcements. 

Piling out of their cars, everyone pulled out their guns, Weston included. Being sure to point the revolver at the ground for the time being, he made hast to cautiously approach the place. 

With a squad of men on his tail to back him up, everyone was quick to duck for cover as the first bullet broke the tense silence. Jumping into the bushes, Weston stared out at a few of the men standing outside the home, dropping what looked to be gasoline that they were previously pouring over the building to instead pull out their own guns. 

Weston gritted his teeth as no sooner did bullets begin to fly. It was far from Weston's first rodeo, but the small explosions cutting through the air and ricocheting off of cars was no less deafening.   
Weston noted with a tense jaw the officer beside get a bullet to the stomach and go down. Weston spun to help the man out, only to beaten when another officer quickly dropped low to quickly drag him out of the danger zone. Weston forced himself to forget any concern for the fellow officer for a later date, shaking his head as a low rumble escaped his throat as he stared down his opposition. 

Raising his gun, he stared down his arm to aim for one of the criminals shooting from behind the fountain. Unlike the scum that aimed to kill, Weston only aimed for the shoulder, enough to take the guy down, but no-where lethal as long as he received medical assistance. Finger hovering over the trigger, in a split second the man in the gun's direction yelled, falling to his knees in surprise as he gripped his shoulder, before rolling over on the ground to hide further behind the fountain. 

By now officers had rounded the building to ensure no one could sneak out, and Weston's side was quickly closing in as new swarms of officers stormed the scene. 

Rounding the house, ducking behind cars and sprinting past the spaces in between, Weston found himself running beside the house. Away from the action, he eye'd the side of the house for a way to get in. Tugging at one of the windows, it was locked. He tried a few others, only for the same result. 

Weston grunted, looking around before sighing in frustration. No sooner did Weston bring his gun to one of the windows full force, shattering the glass under his strength. He winced, hoping the gunshots out front provided a big enough distraction so as to prevent anyone from hearing Weston.  
Not bothering to try his luck, Weston was quick to hop through the window, using his sleeve to try and knock out the remaining glass. Gritting his teeth as he pulled himself through leftover glass tore through his palm and ripped holes in his pants. Dropping to the kitchen floor Weston didn't pause to focus on his hands, quickly re-gripping his gun properly and hastily searching through the house. 

Jogging down the hallway Weston quickly ducked for cover, hiding behind the wall as a few men ran to the front of the house through the room he was about to enter. He paused, gun held up by his head as he moved to turn to continue to try and hunt down Marvin De Luca,

Only it seemed Marvin beat him too it.

A raspy, menacing chuckle encouraged a violent shiver to run down Weston's spine. "Where'd you think you are running off too now, officer?"

Stiffly, Weston raised his arms in the air, before slowly, cautiously, turning around to face the man he'd truly grown to dislike, not just on a moral level, but a personal one too. 

Weston turned, and for the first time got to get a good look at Marvin De Luca from up close. He narrowed his eyes, memorising every feature that he couldn't help but turn his nose up in disgust just knowing it belonged to such a cruel man. A predatory look was held in the icy blue eyes that stared Weston down like prey, Weston couldn't help but think eyes like those were quite fitting for the mobster.

"Marvin De Luca," Weston stated carefully, cautiously flickering his eyes over his expression before back down at the gun held in the mobster's hands pointed directly at him. 

The said man chuckled, "Come on now... no need to be unfriendly, Weston." Marvin's sinister grin grew as Weston's eyes widened. He thought Delilah hadn't told Marvin his name? "Heheh, come on now, do you really think i wouldn't know the name of the man fraternising with my wife?"

Weston ignored the strange feeling twisting in his gut at the word 'wife'. "Delilah told you about me?"

Marvin's boisterous laughter filled the room. "That bitch!?" Weston flinched at Marvin's description of Delilah, biting his tongue before he said anything. "No, not at all. Seems the woman forgot her place as my wife and tried lying to me," Marvin shook his head, "Can you believe the audacity the little bitch must have had? No thanks to you either. It's your fault the pretty little thing fell out of my grasp. Shame she got away really, that one really made some cute little noises, if you know what i mean," he cackled. 

Weston's jaw tightened until he felt as if his teeth would crack, the fingers griping the gun in the air trembling as he glowered over at the disgusting excuse of a man. Quicker then he could stop himself, the words poured from his lips, "The only thing that's a shame here is that you'll be leaving here in handcuffs and not a bodybag..."

Marvin seemed to find the statement hilarious, bending over to smack his knees as his body shook with laughter. Weston's eyes went wide and he didn't delay a second to lunge at the man, Weston's bold move seemingly catching the mobster by surprise. The mobster in question snapped back to his feet and Weston narrowly jumped out of the way before the bullet Marvin had shot could hit him.   
The mobster stumbled in surprise at the sudden move, but before he could re-aim his gun at where Weston was hastily getting to his feet from where he jumped to cover, Weston had already lunged at him, toppling over.

Knocking Marvin's gun from his hands, Weston brought his own gun to firmly press against the mobsters skull as he kept the man pinned to the floor. The coward stilled under him without any resistance as Weston glowered down at him, body trembling as Marvin's disgusting words rang through his head.   
He hated it, hated the way this filth had touched her, hated the way he spoke about her.

"Listen, scum," he hissed,his own dark eyes drilling into the icy ones below him, pressing the cold metal of his gun firmer into Marvin's forehead, "Speak in such a way about Delilah again, and you can forget the hand-cuffs."

Marvin remained tight-lipped, still beneath Weston, his own narrowed eyes glaring daggers up at the investigator. 

Weston scoffed, moving to get off the man, gun still pointing at the criminal as he wrapped an hand around Marvin's arm to drag him to his feet before beginning to recite the words he was obligated by law to rehearse. 

"Marvin De Luca, you are under arrest." 


	14. Chapter 14

The station was in a state of chaos by the time Delilah woke up. Even in the med bay, hidden away down at the western side of the station where it was usually quieter had voices bouncing down the hallways and officers hastily striding past her door. Curiously she'd managed to wrangle herself out of bed, limbs feeling heavier after the exhaustion of the past few days. 

Cautiously her fingers had managed to crawl up her face to lightly brush over the small scabs that had healed over her cheeks before peering down at the few old cuts on her arms. They were mild at best, but Delilah couldn't help but brush her thumb over then as she sat up on the medical bed. 

No sooner had Weston come through the door. She'd looked up in surprise, not being able to help the small flush of her cheeks at having him see her in her current state. She wondered if her hair was a mess, and how she must look with no make-up, subconsciously raising her fingers to tenderly comb through her locks. Though her self-consciousness was soon forgotten when she was suddenly scooped up from the bed and pulled into Weston's hard chest, as he seemingly didn't care about her current appearance. She yelped, taken by surprise when Weston's strong but comforting arms pulled at her waist until she was pressed flat against him.   
Delilah paused, before her surprise faded from her face, instead replaced with a warm smile playing at her lips as she raised her arms to wrap around Weston's torso, which was just as solid as she expected. 

"My, what is the occasion?" She joked, her voice slightly muffled from where her face was buried in his chest. Delilah's tired but content grin grew as Weston shook from around her, dropping his arms from around her in which Delilah was surprised at the wave of disappointment she felt in return, but stiffly raised her chin to take in Weston's large grin and eyes filled with mirth.

"We've got him," Is Weston's simple reply. Though few words were spoken it was all that needed to be said as Delilah's eyes widened both in awe and shock.

"....Is he here?" She whispered, bringing her fingers to nervously wring them up at her chest, still unable to tear her eyes away from Weston.

He nodded, his grin wide as he felt just as much excitement as the small woman in front of him. 

Delilah gasped, just as soon as the two had pulled apart she collapsed into him, quickly being steadied by his hands as he was quick to embrace her back. Gripping onto the material of his shirt she squeezed him tightly, cheeks hurting from the pure force of glee pulling at her lips. "Thank you, Weston."

A low chuckle escaped from above her, "Anytime, Delilah."

________________________

Weston hated this idea. He didn't understand why this woman was seemingly full of them.

He shook his head as he gazed over at the back of Delilah's head. He didn't know why he was helpless but to follow along with them either. 

It had been two days since Marvin De Luca was arrested, and he'd since been moved to his temporary jail cell until he received sentencing in court next week. For now however, Delilah was filing for a divorce- which wasn't the part he opposed, what he had been reluctant to agree with was allowing Delilah to be there for the signing. As long as Marvin De Luca signed they wouldn't have to go to court, and as much as Weston hated to say it, women had a lot of discrimination there. 

Walking down the hallway, the two of them paused outside the interrogation where Marvin had been moved for this meeting. The two turned to each other and met each other's gazes. Delilah searched Weston's, seeking assurance within his gaze, and seemingly finding what she had been searching for, she nodded her head and squared her shoulders, keeping her head held high as Weston pushed open and held the door for her. 

Immediately Delilah locked eyes with Marvin and shuddered. She was semi-aware of the door being shut behind her as Weston took her side, crossing his arms over his chest and staring the man cuffed to the table down.   
Marvin's icy eyes were on her, a sneer at his lips. Delilah's skin crawled as his eyes took the time to look her up and down. 

"Delilah," he mused, sitting back in his seat to roll his gaze over her again, before resting at her chest. "You look rather terrible," he stated bluntly, his eyes finally flickering back up to her face. 

Delilah's fists clenched, subconsciously curling into herself, as if trying to hide away from his uncomfortable gaze burning into her. 

Weston clenched his jaw, "Not the point, De Luca," he cut in coolly, his hardened gaze never wavering from the scum before him. "This will be a short visit," his eyes flickered over to Delilah, a small smile playing at his lips as he watched her hold her head up high, not letting herself display any weakness before Marvin. Her strength never failed to impress Weston. "We wouldn't want to waste the day on the likes of you anyway."

Marvin scowled, tauntingly shifting forward in his seat, fire burning in his eyes. "You'll regret this, Weston Grayson. You'll be quite surprised at what resources i have. I swear to you, this isn't the end."

Weston narrowed his eyes, pulling out the paperwork resting in his tight grip from where his arms where it was crossed over his chest to drop it on the table in front of the criminal. "Perhaps not, but your marriage has certainly come to an end."

Marvin stilled, eyes dropping to the papers dropped in front of him to see. For a moment all was silent as Marvin registered what was just said. Slowly, he began to shake, jaw clenched as he seethed in anger.

"What bullshit is this!?" He burst, in which Delilah jumped in response. Weston glanced over at her, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, nodding at her reassuringly. Her eyes momentarily locked with his, and she nodded again in reply. 

“Filthy slut! You’re **mine!** No man will ever take a divorced woman as his own! You’re sloppy seconds now!” He roared, lunging forward in his seat against the chains that kept him cuffed to the table.

A dangerous mix of anger and disgust bubbled in Weston’s gut.   
What a filthy man- utterly undeserving of a fair lady such as Delilah. Weston was dumbfounded to think that this man ever had the chance to call her his own.  
A sharp pang of some indistinguishable emotion jabbed through his gut at the thought of another man touching Delilah, especially the one that remained cuffed to the interrogation table.

“You unloyal bitch! After everything i have done for you! Ungrateful whore! No man will ever want you!”

Weston gritted his teeth. Beside him Delilah stood stiffly, head held high even as tears burnt in the corners of her eyes. A feeling, both powerful and protective swelled within Weston, it burnt inside him and compelled him to do something- anything. He simply couldn’t allow this filth to continue to disrespect her like this. 

So, with pure instinct pulsing in his veins and his thoughts clouded over with nothing but a split second decision, Weston reached out for the woman beside him, hooking his arm around her waist and forcing her into him. Before a single word could be uttered his hand slipped behind Delilah’s head and pulled her lips into his own. Hands pressed up against his chest, the fierce beauty whose eyes he stared into, burning with a mix of passion and surprise, didn’t dare pull away as the hand resting in the dip of her back continued to pull her closer until her small frame was flush against his much larger one. 

A beat of silence passed before Weston finally pulled away, his own eyes still wide and staring deeply into the surprised ones of Delilah. Prying his gaze away, they instead met the cold blue ones that twisted with manic anger. 

“No other man may ever want her, but perhaps that’s for the best, seeing as I want no man other than myself touching her the way I wish too,” He spoke coldly over to the blonde, shaking in anger. Weston wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling, his emotions mixed and wrung in his gut, he wasn't sure how honest his words were, but Weston couldn’t deny how naturally his current words spilled from his mouth. He just needed to get this scum off her back, he wasn't sure he did the right thing, but from the small sparks still lingering on his lips, he didn't have it in himself to say it was the wrong thing to do either.

“As you can see, Delilah has moved on. Accept that she is filing for a divorce- she is no longer your wife, she's a independent woman, capable of making her own decisions. You can no longer tell her what to do. So sign the damn papers," he growled. 

Delilah stared up in shock at Weston, a deep tug in her gut sending rolls of pleasure through her as her fingers brushed over her lips, mimicking the phantom warmth of his lips from when they were previously pressed there. 

Marvin shook, spitting profanities under his breath, his burning glare digging holes into the male standing across the table from him.

"Fine," he gritted out, fists shaking from where they sat on the table in front of him, "But sooner or later, expect to find a bullet in your back."


	15. Chapter 15

"Good Afternoon everyone, I am Tony Whiteman, Senior Head Officer of the police force."

The bright flash of camera's flickered over the man in the uniform on stage's face, a picture that they could wack on the front page of some newspaper. The entire hall was filled with people, reporters and journalists with their notepads, eagerly jotting down every word spoken. 

"I'm here to announce to the public of the recent city-wide arresting's that have occurred this past week."

Weston shook his head. He could hardly believe it. A whole week. The majority of that week having gone by without Delilah in it. Delilah had gone to stay with her mother and father and in the meantime Weston had been so caught up racing around the city making arrests and hunting down those in hiding before they could escape the city, that he hadn't managed to see her since... well, since that day, in the interrogation room.   
Weston shifted from where he stood beside the stage away from prying eyes, bringing his fist to his mouth to clear his throat, gritting his teeth at the thought. He knew he needed to talk to Delilah about...everything, he just hadn't had the opportunity too. But today, he knew Delilah would be here. It would be his chance. 

"Thanks to a particular woman, who shan't be named for safety precautions, an exponential amount of evidence has come into our possession. Since then, over a hundred arrests and counting have been made, not only from the streets, but from within our own ranks. One of these arrests include the mobster don Marvin De Luca," he paused as a few cheers erupted from the crowd, his grin widening, "None of this could have been done without both her, and another fellow officer," the head officer clasped his hands together, twisting his head to grin over at Weston from where he was standing beside stage. "I invite investigator Weston Greyson to take the stage."

Hooking a finger around and fixing his collar he confidently strode onto the stage, a large pearly grin curling at his lips as he waved over at the journalists, another rapid succession of flashing camera's lighting up the stage. He moved to take the centre of the stage as the head officer wandered off stage in the opposite direction.   
Once more he cleared his throat, standing in front of the microphone as he swept his eyes of the crowd, unconsciously finding himself searching for Delilah.

"Lovely day today, is it not?" He grinned, "A shame that we're here wasting it indoors." The comment erupted a few murmurs of agreement and nodding of heads.   
"It's an honour to be here up on stage, but it is an even bigger honour to be working within the ranks of the justice system, enforcing the law and protecting the public from men such as Marvin De Luca," a few whistles and cheers were his reply. "I very much value the opportunity to work for the hard working and honest people living in this city, and will continue to strive for even safer streets until the day i retire.

"For a long time now this city, in it's government, on the streets and within its justice system had been riddled with crime. However today marks the day of a big step forward. While before many, unfortunately including myself, found it difficult to have hope for a better future for this city. However today i can tell you something different.

Because i have hope, for this city, for the people, for the law. So for that, i have to thank that particular woman, who allowed all of this to come into play," his eyes searched the crowd, but they couldn't seem to locate Delilah. Weston couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. "And to her, i am forever grateful."

He paused, thoughtfully watching the crowd for a moment, his thoughts momentarily resting on Delilah. "As an enforcer of the law, i can't promise you advancements as big as this again, but i can promise you my best. The officers within this city will remain diligent in their duty to this city, and as will I. Do not give up hope on this city yet, there will be big changes happening around here, for a better today, and a better tomorrow."

Like that he finished his speech, bidding everyone a good day as the crowd erupted in applause, several cheers encouraging the grin at his lips to grow. Escaping off stage he could still hear the applause, refraining from loosening his tie. Business wasn't over just yet.   
There was still Delilah. 

Another man entered the stage, but Weston didn't stick around to here what he had to say. He just had to see Delilah. He was tired of waiting, he needed to speak with her, be with her. He sped down the small staircase leading to level ground with the rest of the crowd and began his search.

He wasn't entirely sure where she was, or even if she was actually here, but he'd have faith she was. 

He had to squeeze through a plethora of people just to try and escape to the back of the room, but he remained stubborn. As he past he received a lot of compliments and bats on the back from people, their own versions of heart-felt thank you's for everything he'd done for the city. He would have stuck around to speak with everyone, but they currently weren't the priority.

Though it felt an eternity, he eventually laid eyes on Delilah. At that moment he just had to pause, stilling from where he stood metres away in the crowd. His heart squeezed as he watched her try to peer around the taller man in front of her, unable to restrain the large grin begging to be put on display. 

And just as quickly as he'd come to a halt, he'd shot off again. "Delilah!" He called, immediately drawing her attention. As her dark eyes found Weston she lit up, a toothy grin curling across her own lips as she made haste to approach him, stopping just as the two were only a foot apart. "I'm glad you were able to make it."

Delilah chuckled, "Of course. There wasn't a single chance i would miss it," she smiled, "I do have to say however, you do look quite charming on stage."

Weston quirk a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips, "Oh? So it seems you've finally fallen for my charms?" He joked.

"Perhaps."

Weston paused, temporarily stunned at the way his heart clenched at Delilah's response, that seemed perhaps a little genuine. He glanced away, running his fingers through his hair as his smirk returned to his usual lop-sided grin. "Yes well, let's get out of here, perhaps somewhere quieter. I have something i must discuss with you."

Delilah's eyes widened, "How convenient... as do i," Weston swore he saw something like nervousness in her expression, but he'd turned around too quickly to move that he'd missed it. 

With Delilah right behind him, following him elsewhere, Weston couldn't help but clench his jaw anxiously, his eyes flickering over to her for a second.   
He really hoped this conversation turned out alright. This woman... Delilah, was evoking responses in him he wasn't familiar with. 

Now, Delilah certainly was not his first partner, he'd had his own fair share of experience, but the attraction he felt for her in particular felt unlike any other he'd experienced. Thinking back, he'd always felt some sort of attraction to her (as professional as he liked to be, he couldn't deny Delilah was an attractive and alluring woman), as if there was some sort of pull drawing him to her, and it had only grown the longer he got to know her. 

The two found themselves backstage, where no-body else was around. They stood closely facing each other. 

Weston grinned, "So uh, I have said it before, but, i need to say it again. Thank you, Delilah," he stated boldly, taking the initiative to start the conversation that would inevitably occur. 

Delilah paused, before nodding, a warm smile of her own curled at her lips. "You keep thanking me, but it is me who should be thanking you," Weston couldn't help but stiffen as she took a step closer, his pulse quickening, "You.... you saved me. Gave me hope for a better future."

Weston shook his head, in return taking another step forward until the two were practically chest to chest. "How convenient.. you did the same," tenderly his hand rose to cup the side of her face as she sharply sucked in a breath. 

"Weston," she whispered, hands sliding up his chest, making shivers run down his spine, "...I would like for you to kiss me now," she breathed out.

A low growl escaped Weston's throat, as his free hand quickly curled around her waist, forcing her against him, staring intensely into her eyes, Weston didn't hesitate, diving down and capturing her lips with his own, a shiver of pleasure twisting in his gut as sparks jittered through his body from where their lips touched, electrifying every movement. 

Neither knew what the future held for either of them, but they knew that they needed each other in it. They weren't sure where their paths would take them, they just knew how right it felt pressed up against each other.

Delilah squeezed her eyes shut. It was a miracle she'd ever gotten the chance to meet Weston.

...

Perhaps fate was real after all. 


End file.
